So I'm sitting on my porch in Provincetown, really enjoying the 4th of July weekend; great weather, good friends, fantastic fuckin' bar-b-q (I made it, so I can brag) and relaxing before I head to the Kennedy Center for a two week playwriting intensive where I mentor/teach/guide 40 playwrights for all across the country; they're all ages, a wide range of experience, a wide range of interests. They're paying a lot of money to be there, so I try to really deliver the goods while we're together. It's all to say I need to rest up before I get out there because they keep me running pretty much 24/7. And I can usually do that in Provincetown.
But this weekend I have a problem: a ride-by playwright who won't shut up.
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