My office is down a half-flight of stairs. The other afternoon a young man was sitting on the bottom step. I've never once seen anyone hanging out there, & I have to say the pigeons have added not such a pleasant aroma. Hey, I called, this isn't a great place to sit — people come & go all the time. He slowly turned & considered me, then slowly gathered his belongings, which involved dropping them several times before he managed to get them into his pockets. A pill bottle sat on the step. You're forgetting your bottle, I said - unless it's good drugs. It is, he said slowly, then slowly picked it up, pocketed it, and climbed the stairs (slowly).
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