As a 12-year-old, I was walking with my dad in the summer and we were captivated by the smell of shale. I don’t know what kind of child foolishness it was, but I decided that I’t eat a shale. I decided to try the ribbons. They were brought with a huge kissman and had to cut them through with a dull knife and bite the flesh, breaking and stretching the ribs with small child palms. I refused my dad’s help and towels, and he quietly watched all this wildness and atrocity. When I finished, he said the following:

"You know, in a few years you will become an adult girl, boys will start calling you on dates... and when you are invited to a restaurant... you just... well you know... don't order a shorter ribbon.