I picked up Keaton Marks at the local bus depot and the rest is dicktory. Occasionally after some good long creeping, after I ditch the snoozing dick meat, raid the fridge, and rummage for cab fare, I stop and think of all the lives I’ve touched. I mean what goes through those clouded little heads as they wake up? How much do they remember? Do they know where they are? Why is the door unlocked? As I realize how uncertain and cheap I must make them feel, I’m usually rock hard and ready for the next one.