I’m playing Tetris and coaching an invisible crew of beginners, explaining the value of choosing a favorite shape. “This selection is loud,” I’m saying. “It’s a clear and tightly worded prayer straight to Jesus, and when it’s crunch-time, Jesus will answer, Jesus will deliver.”

And everyone picks the long skinny one like the stupid jerks they are. Every last one. “Oh it’s like finally banging the homecoming queen,” they say, like their private schools even had one. “Sliding it on home for the big bonus.”

And I say: “But what about the t-shape?” And they look at one another and shrug and roll their eyes, like: Check out the old timer. Any skillz he had he traded away long ago to some carpal tunnel honey that was only interested in his unemployment checks. “Nothing is more flexible,” I say. “Nothing is ready for any eventuality like the t-shape.”

And they laugh and present their cootie-catchers to one another and have too-quick intercourse in the nooks where their parents keep the washers and dryers. They don’t have the slightest idea.