Today, I left myself in a Mexican restaurant, between the two cups of coffee that I drank, the two cigarettes I smoked, the two steps I took on my way to the door. I left myself somewhere at a table, sitting, wide-eyed, still sipping coffee, still smoking cigarettes, with a cold glass of Coke next to the bowl of nachos congealing with hamburger meat fat and orange salsa.

I waved goodbye and saw myself wave back, mouth full of nachos and salsa-orange teeth. Upon a wave of affection, I thought I should run back and give myself a goodbye hug, too. But just then the yellow cab honked its bleaty horn. I sighed, put my glasses on, and walked out the door.