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I think Orlando, Florida, is a little safer tonight. “What if you asked me, ‘Hey, are you sad that fifty pedophiles were killed today?’ Um, no, I think that’s great. On my walk, I listened to a bit of a sermon delivered on Sunday by Roger Jimenez, of Verity Baptist Church. City people and the young are more in favor of remaining in the E.U., but will they vote in sufficient numbers? What would it mean for everyone who works at Starbucks and Costa and Whole Foods and Ryman’s and everywhere else that relies on foreign workers? Walking home from Storrington, I passed a pro- Brexit sign reading “ VOTE LEAVE.” It’s the first one I’ve seen, but it’s not surprising, given the area. spokesman undoubtedly released a statement saying that one lone crazy person shouldn’t be allowed to ruin things for everyone else. After the bodies were carted away, the President made a speech, people piled flowers and Teddy bears on a curb, and an N.R.A. An article in this morning’s Times described the weapon he used-an assault rifle that was easy to buy. On one campus, they’re insisting that white people should not be allowed to have dreadlocks, which is something I’ve been saying for years.Ī gunman opened fire in an Orlando gay bar on Saturday night, killing forty-nine people and wounding another fifty-three. Taco Tuesdays amounts to cultural appropriation, as does stir-fried chicken. Included was: no “cross-ethnic” food in the cafeteria. On the Daily Beast yesterday morning, I read a list of demands presented by students at various colleges and universities this past year. We were young once, and now we have all this. It’s rather like we’re celebrating something that was hard-earned. We always seem old in these moments, but not in a dreary way. The house feels like a wonderful decision then-no matter how much trash I’ve picked up, it’s all worth it. This is my favorite encounter: him at the end of the day, drink in hand, sun-kissed and in a good mood. I came home from picking up trash last night and found him on the bench beneath the tree drinking a Manhattan and surveying his freshly cut lawn.
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His painting studio is closed for the summer.
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“Neela tells me they’re like caviar to slugs,” he said, sighing. Later in the day, he tried transplanting some sweet peas he’d grown from seeds. “It’s Tom and Thelma’s,” he explained, which would make it a Model T & T. “It’s like a Model T,” I said, “but it’s also like you should have a whip in your hand.” It looked like a buggy almost, and he was bobbing up and down in the seat. I was working yesterday and looked out the window to see Hugh on what was surely the world’s first riding mower. Making it worse, instead of just stepping out of the elevator, the woman turned to hug her friends and say how much she was going to miss them. My floor was eleven, but our first stop was two, where I glared at the woman getting off and thought, Couldn’t you have walked? There are stairs off the lobby. “What about you on that double-decker bus!”
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“Marcie here’s the crazy one,” a woman in a brown turtleneck said, and again they all cracked up. Their laughter was sudden and shrill, and the sound of it caused me to wince. “We’re all over the place!” one of the women cried, and the others shrieked. “No problem,” I said, changing my mind as each of them pressed a button for a different floor. “Thank you, thank you,” they panted, as they piled in behind me. Late yesterday morning, it was a group of four middle-aged women, all plump and American. They come infrequently, so, if I’m in the lobby, waiting to go up, I always check to see if anyone else is coming before I press the button.
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There are only two guest elevators at the Excelsior Hotel.