I walk past the admin’s desk every day at work, and many times she’s not there, but in her place is a sign-in sheet for visitors.  For unknown reasons, I find myself drawn to scribble nonsense names on the list . . . but I have so far resisted the urge.  The names appear immediately, out of the ether, as if I am the channel for a witty spirit.  Today’s name was “Derek Meatwalker.”  Most names are food-based:  “Jerry Cauliflower.”  And immediate: “James Spaghetti.”  “Eric Soup.”

These names pop into my head as I approach the sign-in sheet, and then I turn the corner, having successfully resisted the urge once again, but then I imagine someone encountering these names, or these names being called out in public:  Mr. Spaghetti? Mr. Meatwalker?”

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