I’m back.
I moved to Ann Arbor.
One day, I was walking back to my dorm in a bad mood. I looked up and saw a man heading in the opposite direction. In his hands was what appeared to be a live lobster. He held it the way you’d hold a cat, sort of under the armpits, and when he saw me looking, he raised one of its claws in a little wave (I waved back).
This is why I love this town—it seems like, whenever I start to get really discouraged, the city of Ann Arbor steps in and says, “Here, have some whimsy on the house.”
