My friend Laura comes to Los Angeles. She drove from New York with her new boyfriend, Isaac. Says a pheasant flew through their back window in Idaho. We walk to Fazzi’s to shoot pool. Issac is British, says things like balls and cheers, mate. He kicks our asses, using strategy like a pro. When he uses the “loo” I ask Laura if he’s circumcised. She whacks me over the head with her cue stick.