My friend phoned and asked if I was going to be around, as she wanted to drop off “the envelope” from last week’s show.

The envelope contains a hard-copy report of how many people were in the room for the concert based on how many tickets were torn, a list of how many new tickets were purchased (for future shows), along with credit card receipts and whatever cash was collected at the door.

Normally, when she drops it off, she pulls into my driveway, steps out of the car, hands me the envelope, we spend a few brief minutes of casual chit-chat, and then she leaves, and I go back to whatever it is I was doing. This time, though, I invited her in, and we sat at the dining room table, and rather than making the exchange and promptly wrapping things up, we started talking about “other” things.

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