It seemed we would have to go to a different establishment for each citrus. From the small, carceral structure of our agendas we wiggled for a space of time, only making it as far as a papier-mâchè class peopled by geriatrics and problem teens. Reminding ourselves about what we're going to end up as, we end up ending up that way, and don't even enjoy the journey. The solution is about ninety percent water. Realistically, there's no veering off the well-trodden path, knocking on a door at random, introducing myself, and having one of those expansive philosophical conversations that end in fajitas at the 24-hour place. I'm going to go where I always go, and you too, or else we'll go someplace else, but with the same body and mindset that can be navigated no more easily than an iceberg or comet. It all ends up as the same water under the bridge. Step in the same stream twice. You get soaked.