AS MUCH AS I DON’T WANT TO ADMIT IT, WHAT’S GOING ON with $isi has got to me. What does it say about my judgment, signing up artists who are such liabilities? Addictions, unstable behaviour in general, hysterics? Cancer. I’d blame my inability to foresee, but foresight is nonsense. How could I have known? I couldn’t have.
I wake up with those sorts of anxious thoughts. The cleaning lady has done a nice job while I was away in Montreal, but I notice a tiny stain on the flat-screen TV and jump out of bed, irritated, trying to wipe off the stain with a sleeve of my silk pajama top. I succeed; the stain disappears.
I unpack my suitcase; sort out the shirts to take to the dry cleaner.
I get dressed. A crisp white Etro shirt, black raw-Japanesedenim jeans Gloria bought me on sale at Saks last
