By Stacey Asip-Kneitschel
One night— many years ago— having temporarily gone off the rails, I phoned Legs McNeil to share in the experience. Legs (something of a veteran in going off the rails himself) shocked me with his apathy.
“So, open a book,” was his unsympathetic response.
“No, no. It’s bad,” I whined. “I CAN’T EVEN READ!”
Not realizing it had come to this, Legs sprung into action. “Allow me,” he said, suddenly sounding like Wodehouse’s Jeeves, all benevolence and authority.
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