Memoir: Diary-- Monday, November 18, 1991

At a stop light today:  I watched behind me-- a man in a business suit, framed in my rear-view mirror.  He was chewing gum and would pull it out from his mouth, a long white strand, then chomp-chomp on the strand until the last of it disappeared inside his mouth.  He did this over and over, until the light turned green.

It was so inconsistent-- the business suit and the gum.  I felt like a voyeur.  I was given a glimpse of the little boy inside the man inside the suit.