So there’s a wonder-material fabric bracelet attached to my wrist that
I’m not supposed to take off for six days, despite my wrist being
attached to my body in the humidor that’s New Orleans in July — no doubt
a clever inventor’s inspiration for the steam room. I’ll have to use
the chip in the bracelet to sign electronically into and out of rooms,
so it’s either a harbinger of a creepy future or a sign someone’s really
worried about losing me.