i had a brief email exchange with someone today about their apartment number being “2B”. my initial instinct was wonder how the other people can tell which apartment is theirs from all of the other ones in the building except for 2B, when they are clearly living in “not 2B”.
and suddenly i had flashbacks to the college bf who was
with shakespeare. in fact started writing a novel about someone robbing shakespeare’s grave. (i don’t know if you read this, but hi ajw if you do. i owe you an email)
and then i was remembering when we would go to the airport in new orleans, the parking garage was arranged in such a way that after driving up the sprial ramp* the first level you came to was level 2B and how all of us would usually park in 2B because there were far fewer levels named 2B than not 2B.
*i hate the tight spiral ramps that lead to parking garages. i get insanely carsick on those ramps. and when going down the ramp i feel like a green gumball.