Drag Race with Quentin at the campus bar. Happy-hour oysters with Malcolm. Board games with Arnold. Bad horror movies with Christian. The opera with Kristopher. And on and on. In each audience, I quickly become a new devotee, seasoned enough to roll my eyes at all the posers and imposters around me. I adapt to whatever the faces around me serve, all adept at their respective rituals of enjoyment. Mom’s Marlboro Lights I refuse on principle. Dad’s unfiltered Pall Malls you can tap out one at a time on your knee from their soft pack.
