Venice Saved: a Seminar strides into its last week tonight. The tables are filled despite the weather, spitty and crapulous and dank. The New Young Pony Club is playing over the speakers. Candy is being unwrapped – do it now, punks, or suffer the disdainful wrath of Werthmann! – and at least one t-shirt has been spread out and then, re-folded with a dismal lack of efficiency, stuffed back into its bag.
The beverage count is as follows: 5 waters; 5 coffees. Meager, just like our times.