the map

I’m testing out a new communication style where, instead of inviting total strangers to dilly-dally in the labyrinth of my extremely exacting thought process, I cut straight to the end: a challenge to pick up what I’m putting down, trusting they are smart enough to get all the way there on their own. (With my best friend, of course, I still enjoy charting a course through ideas and experiences; she is safe enough to think aloud to. Tim Rogers once called this style of essay-writing, to me, “taking the reader on a little walk.” I like walking with my friends.) I had accidentally passed my street, so I drove on into the next town, where I’d have to go to execute a safe and legal U-turn anyway. I pulled into the drive-through car wash, and I decided to pull all the way through it. People can’t reach the keypad, so there’s always an attendant standing next to it. The attendant asked me which type of car wash I wanted. “Basic, please,” I told him. He immediately attempted the upsell.…