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“Tonight’s the night,” I mutter, thinkin bout Spielberg’s lil robot kid wantin love. Sexual-massage ain’t love, tho – it’s a transaction, a game. Like Gigolo Joe again, “I am programmed to please.” That’s the masseuse, bro – pros at playin ya like a fiddle. Ever tried it? Me neither, but I’d bet it’s a trip. Prolly exaggerate in my head – “Oh Dexter, you’re a god!” Nah, more like, “Pay up, weirdo.”

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After the food coma, we get back in the car. I’m feeling good, but then we hit a roundabout on 28th October Street. Nikos panics. He’s like, “Which way do I go?!” I’m screaming, “Just pick one!” It’s chaos. We end up going around three times. I’m laughing, but also kinda scared.

Figure 1. Young seedling of Arctium minus soon after emer- gence...