As I rolled my cart full of apples, crackers, and rotisserie chicken toward the Costco exit tonight, a salesgirl accosted me with brochure in hand.
Me: [pause] I don't own my home.
She: Me neither. Hey, we'll get there.
This turnaround moment of breaking economic pretense and entering solidarity reminded me of O. Henry's 1907 short story "Transients in Arcadia". If you haven't read it before, check it out.
