At one point she asks a woman employed at a fish cannery if she made friends with, was close to, talked with the other women on the factory assembly line. Not really, the woman answers. The woman’s boyfriend hangs around nearby, ready to pick her up. What do you do all day, then? I daydream. What do you daydream about? the writer presses. About sex. I guess that’s my fault, the boyfriend apologizes proudly. No, it’s not you, says the woman. It’s the tuna fish.