The thrill of a bra of my own."Morning Kate," I exclaimed cheerfully to the diminutive ITtechnician,her face flushed, her brunette hair barely held ba...k in anawkward bun. Kate smiled. Did she know? Was women's intuition a thing? Iwanted to just shout it, those curious words: "You and me sister, we'rein the same boat. Because I am wearing a-"Her brows had furrowed. "Heat getting to you, Barry?" She was friendly,a concerned voice betraying a note of pity.I muttered the to affirmative. The windows. " I realize that. I tried to quit...I just couldn't. Call it anaddiction." He slumped against the wall.I glanced out the window. The constructed LA I could see outside wasobviously made by someone who'd never been here. Both the Hollywood signand Chinatown were visible from the window. It was an overly idealizedversion of the city, which upset me for some reason. The streets weredeserted, obviously."It's not an addiction. An addiction you'd get help for. This...this isjust sick."I. More

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