A Night in Corsica

Whenever Rick paused in the middle of a sentence, his friends grew steadily concerned. Not because they were under the impression that he could be experiencing the early onset of dementia, or that he may be suffering a series of minuscule strokes, or that he may have a learning disability that perhaps had remained dormant or unexamined throughout his relatively young life. No, his friends were concerned that whenever Rick paused, they had to, for once - for one excruciating, blisteringly intense moment - they had to acknowledge that someone, somewhere, had managed to tear their attention away from the omnipresent parade of WWF announcers that continually burst their way into this airport men’s room.  Their suits, those microphones – those ticker tape parades! Our youth has vanished! Hoyt! Pamela!!