Why Buddy?

I see Young Adult alone because I can’t remember who liked Juno and who didn’t and who I pretended I liked Juno to and to whom I told the truth. A man in my row leans over the seat in front, asks somebody to switch their phone off, and then this man’s wife, the first one, the leaner, opens a pick and mix bag and disturbs words every time she eats fudge, every time she picks up a milk bottle.

I tell Jack later and he says, “Why’d you sit in a room with people you don’t know in the dark when you could stay at home with a screener?” I’ve tried not to equate size with quality since I grew up, or since I left uni, or wherever youth ended for me, if it even did yet, so I go with, “I wanted to see Theron’s pores engorged, wanted to get to see them close up. Magnifying glasses and magazines don’t add up because that’s almost always airbrushing. But today I learned something.” And Jack just says, “Okay.”

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