“Did he say anything remotely interesting?” Zooey asked.

“He just told me an address for one of those packing and mailing joints where I could properly use the key,” Fritz answered.

“How dissapointing,” Zooey said, “If you had taken me along I could have gotten lots of good information out of him!”

“Like what?” Fritz said sternly.

“Like…a funny story, or a good place to get a cappachino, or possibly …why the hell the manuscript was so important?!” Zooey said. Fritz touseled his hair with his fingertips pondering.

“That might have been something to think about,” he said curiously, “But honestly, it wasn’t my business…”

“Eh, whatever, maybe by coincidence I’ll run into Mr. Ziggy Stardust some time on the bus, and I’ll ask him,” Zooey said.

Fritz glanced at her, “Please don’t go harrassing every person in the city that wears red pants.”

She laughed, “Who wears red pants anymore besides people like us?”.

“You have a point there…” Fritz said gazing out the window.