“Where were you last night?” Gina asks.

“On the 7,” I say, not breaking my flow. Heineken, Corona, Corona, Heineken. “Ended up in Flushing. No room at the spot.”

I’m on my side of the bed trying to undo three gold necklaces that are stuck together. There is no beginning and no end. I’ve been trying to separate them for days. Today at work I spent two hours at my desk with a toothpick and a magnifying glass, tugging, pulling, shaking, praying. Now twelve hours later, I still have a blob of indiscernible gold…