“You know,” Michael says as we continue walking, “I haven't seen a single one of the movies you just brought up. Be honest: are they complete shit?” I grin at him—I seem to be finding myself grinning a lot more lately—and let him guide me across the street behind Pax and Ran, a sea of other museumgoers swelling and parting around us like the tide around a rock. “They're all … unique in their own way,” I say cautiously and this time it's Michael that laughs at me. “Unique. A euphemism for shit. I get it.” “No, no, they're all good—for the right crowd. I'm just not sure that you are going to
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