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Dan; who they all just called ?the new kid? or ?hey; you;? despite the fact that he?d been working
there full time for almost a month and wore a name tag everyday; just like they did。
How glamorous。
Dan burst into the tiny lounge; accidentally banging the door against the wall; startling a skinny
kid with short; mussed…up blond hair and horn…rimmed glasses too big for his square; wide…eyed
face。
?Sorry;? Dan muttered; dashing over to his designated locker?a tiny; one…foot…square cubby just
inches above the dust…bunny…and…decades…old…cigarette…butt…littered concrete floor。 He entered his
nerdy bination?82849; the birth…day of Goethe; the author of his all…time favorite book;The
Sorrows of Young Werther ?tossed his paper inside; and grabbed his plastic name tag。
?New York Review of Books;huh?? asked the blond guy。
?What? Yeah。? Dan pinned the cheap red tag to his faded black T…shirt; eyeing the stranger
suspiciously。 Dan hadn?t noticed him around before。 Was it his first day? Was it possible that Dan
was no longer technically ?the new kid??
?I?m Greg。? The stranger smiled。 ?It?s my first day。?
Fresh meat in moldy…book land。 Sounds like a freaking party。
?Cool。 Wele to hell;? Dan barked; secretly thrilled that he now had seniority over someone。
?Actually; I can?t believe I?m here;? Greg continued eagerly; glancing around the room as if it
were the Sistine Chapel instead of a dirty; windowless room in a rat…infested basement。 He was
wearing a short…sleeved cowboyish but…ton…down shirt and cutoff khaki pants that reminded Dan
of Vanessa。 The other afternoon when the AC had blown out in the living room; she?d
spontaneously cut the legs off her favorite black cargos to make shorts。 God; he missed her。
?I?ve always wanted to work here; you know?? Greg went on。
?Job?s a job;? replied Dan; disinterestedly。 Of course he knew exactly what Greg was talking
about; but he was kind of enjoying mimicking the attitude copped by the rest of the senior Strand
employees。 It made him feel tough; like he might put out his next cigarette on the back of Greg?s
hand。 ?I saw a whole cart of old literary journals upstairs by the elevator。 Guess that?s what you?ll
be dealing with till lunchtime。?
?Sounds great to me!? gushed Greg。 ?Am I supposed to just wait down here; though? This guy
Clark told me to e down here and that he?d be with me soon; but that was; like; fifteen
minutes??
?Well; Clark knows what he?s doing;? Dan interrupted。 ?I?ve got to get upstairs; but I?m sure I?ll
see you around; Jeff。?
?It?s Greg;? the guy corrected him。 ?Did anyone ever tell you that you look exactly like that guy
from the Raves; Dan Something??
Dan froze in midstep。 ?Humphrey。 His name?s Dan Humphrey;? Dan informed him。 ?Well;
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