That night Elba comes over and I haven’t got any new hats so we just put on a movie and cuddle. Her chest is pressing into my back and she tells me that she likes the feeling of my butt in her lap and I laugh and kiss her arm. We’re watching Eyes Wide Shut and I can’t get the creepy Illuminati piano refrain out of my mind. Tom Cruise is trying to figure out if the prostitute who saved his life is dead and I wonder why I thought this was a good date movie. I press my butt into Elba’s lap and ask her about the picture.

That’s really weird, she says.

Do you think it’s you in the picture?

I don’t know. I didn’t see it. But how would a bum have a picture of me in the first place?

I don’t know, maybe you two knew each other before he was a bum.

Hmm, you don’t think he’s following me, do you?

I hope not. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were following me. I mean, he knows where I live.

It’s probably just somebody who looks like me.

That’s a pretty freaky coincidence, don’t you think?

Elba is silent. On screen, Tom Cruise pulls open the drawer in the morgue and gazes upon the dead face of his redeemer.

I jolt awake and am perplexed until the knock sounds again at the door. I glance over at Elba but she’s asleep, pale lips parted slightly on the white pillow. I grab a pair of jeans off the floor and pull them on, hoping that whoever is knocking won’t be offended by my hard nipples. A peephole inquiry reveals Mr. Scabby Dog and his sidekick, and I swallow a sigh as I reluctantly open the door.

I open my mouth to say good morning but before I can get the words out the bum throws a book at my feet and runs down the hall. In my confusion the dog yips and then runs into my apartment. Fearing infestation and disease I herd him onto my balcony and shut the screen door so that his little yaps will penetrate and I’ll know he hasn’t died yet. I hear Elba stirring in the bedroom.