"Did you bring the chocolate chips?" I ask.
"I wouldn't think of leaving them behind", says Carl, brandishing a club pack of semi sweet chocolate chips. We are back in my room, again. I was waiting for about fifteen minutes, and just as I was getting desperate with impatience and emotions of abandonment, there he was, knocking gently on my door. I am again reclining on my bed, or rather, the bed I am borrowing from Carl.who is leaning back in the armchair by the window. It is now getting dark, and Kenny's journal is resting like a sleeping cat on my lap. He passes me the bag, and I select just a small handful, and I lean back in a cloud of gathering ecstasy as the bittersweet magic is slowly absorbed into my tongue.
"Ready to read?" asks Carl.
"Oh, that's right. Sorry."
"No worries, man. I could see you were caught up in a rapture of chocolate."
I flip through the pages. Here is an entry for June 29.
"How many drag queens does it take to change a lightbulb? Four, one to change the lightbulb and three to say "Oh darling, that's marvellous!
"How many drag queens does it take to change a lightbulb? Four, one to change the lightbulb, and three to say I could have done that SO much better!
"How many drag queens does it take to change a lightbulb? Three. One to change the lightbulb and two to say, Bitch, you're in my light!"
Three good, decent lightbulb jokes about drag queens, and all of them remaining stuck inside my mouth. Well, they weren't that funny, I suppose, and they do repeat negative stereotypes, but come on, Harriet! There we were, all gathered 'round the restaurant table following the evening church service. And some of them spouting off the lamest knock knock and lightbulb jokes that ever annoyed the human ear, and I know three perfectly decent, if lame, and family appropriate lightbulb jokes about drag queens and I didn't have the balls to tell not even one...."
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