Every morning, we stop at the Haymarket Cafe for coffee and chai, now that they have a door on the street. On the brick wall by the door, it says

AVOCADO
                SEED
SOOP-A-
      VOOTY!

We are convinced that this is not nonsense. This is our secret society. Soop-A-Vooty!is our shibboleth and an acceptable substitute exclamation for ay dios mio!. Soop-A-Vooty is the name of my car, my car is a song by Cheviomega. Why say Vroom when you have this option?

                Avocado seed?

Soop-A Vooty!

Avocado seed complements your Naugahyde. Avocado seed commiserates when you're sick. You're not a freak when avocado seed is around. Your friends know you best.

Somebody wrote this on the wall - in chalk! Yet after a year (more? gddmn it, maybe.) it's still there. Is it elsewhere? are we the only ones who see it, blearily stumbling into the cafe/juicebar at 7 AM? It's a secret message. It's our appropriation of someone else's inside joke, an inside-out joke. We are the chosen, the commuters, damned to be free. And this is our cry.