I am writing to you right now from the United State Of Maine. We pulled off the I-95 at Assgas Plaza, where they have free internet, as well as a monkey bathroom and a vending machine that sells poutine and chicken legs.

We crossed the border without a hitch even though Trish told Dan that she had phoned ahead to the border and told them that he was a “terrorist with a gun in his asshole.” The border guard seemed bored silly and did the whole interrogation with his eyes turned upward towards the ceiling of his booth. As we pulled away he said “Enjoy your trip,” and Dan said “Thanks, you too.” (“I was nervous,” he said.)

We are going to drive all night and get a train from Connecticut to the Lower East Side, so, see you there.