Hank notes that Kimboo wears a glorious pair of forest green velvet pants that sport a gusset crotch which hangs down to Kimboo’s knees.

At a table in the corner of the cafe, Kimboo puts a phone on the table and plays Neil Young’s album, On the Beach.

—You got money? Kimboo says.


—From where?

—I work.

—Doing what?

—I’m a back-end engineer.

—I’ve got Phallust, but it’s gonna cost you.

—Great. Can I buy two? I have a roommate.

—If you have ten grand, you can have two.


—You guys close? Because you’re about to get real close if you aren’t already.

—Why would that happen? Hank says.

Kimboo considers Hank for a second. —Phallust doesn’t just change your body. It changes how you live. It’s not for the faint of heart. Literally, do you know how much blood it takes to keep a penis of that size erect? Make sure you think about that. I’ve read what people who have taken it are saying.

—What are you saying?

—Knowing what I know now, I still would’ve done it. But I would’ve relocated to a different city first. Somewhere I didn’t know anyone and I could more fully explore myself in a way that I can’t here. Does that make sense?

Hank regards Kimboo. —No, not really.

Kimboo smiles at Hank. —Hank, would you consider yourself a deep thinker?

—Deep? Like, feet or meters or something?

Kimboo laughs out loud.