because I’m really not humble.
Franky likes to ask you where you’re “at” all the time. Location matters to him. It’s his way of keeping tabs on you. And by you, I mean me.
“I don’t know,” I say, giving him the round-the-mill answer. “In some ways, I’m over here. In other ways, I’m over there. My body could be in one place, but my mind could be elsewhere.”
I say this because I’ve already used Los Angeles, San Diego, and Cleveland for an answer.
And he says, “Where you at?”
And I say, “You know Franky. I don’t know where I am, but I know where you are. In my mind.”
That should give me another couple days.