I read Brautigan’s In Watermelon Sugar. I read it about once a year. Coincidentally enough, it normally happens sometime in the month following February, following the anniversary of that day I ingested my first psychedelic substance and my life forever changed.
I normally follow it with The Sun Also Rises.
The Quick n’ Brite salesman at this latest show claimed to have me figured out. He was right, too, to a certain extent. He knew if I was away from the booth, I was either putting on my long john’s, dumping my buckets or uploading my credit card transactions.
But he didn’t know about In Watermelon Sugar, and its presence as a defining characteristic of my life. There are so few, really. I could make a checklist. That might prove to be a useful commodity for future relationships. A reader, if you will.