There is a lobby in a place you will never see as long as you live. No, no, you should be glad for that. This lobby is well lit, well decorated and very spacious, which it has to be for reasons we will cover in a moment. There is a lovely coffee machine of undetermined brand roughly in the center of the room, but most days it only has decaf coffee of questionable quality. In terms of flavor it lies somewhere between airplane coffee and high quality transmission fluid.

I know all this, because my name is Larry Longkite, and my job is to brew that coffee every single day. Well, it is one my jobs, anyway. My other job is to sit behind a large metal desk in the middle of this lobby, just across from the coffee machine, and deal with endless waves of people. Dead poeple, to be precise. I process their papers when they arrive and then patiently answer their questions, the first of which is usually… “Where the fuck am I?”. Continue reading →