There's "Delay" In "Vandelay"

On Wednesday i met Taylor's confidant Art*.

"When you blog about me," said Art. "Call me Art**."

So i am.

I found Art distant. Lukewarm handshake, eye-contact aversion, and snappy remarks.

When i shared my view with Taylor a couple of days later, he said, "That's just Art... He's been bitter since he lost his fiancée."

To another human being? Or to death? I didn't pursue.

We are products of our life experiences. Some of us are a volume of compilations of hurt, with frayed pages bookmarked and dogearred. Others, it seems, are a complete Brittanica collectors' set.


*Not his real name
** A Seinfeld reference