Notes from around Georgetown

in the weeks before my new novel publishes

1.

—Hi, how are you? I ask my dry cleaner.

—Bad, he says. How are you?

I only started coming here last year, after my former preferred establishment changed ownership, professionalized its storefront, and ruined my favorite pants. This place at minimum looks like a fire hazard, if not a candidate for Hoarders. The customer service is . . . not a priority.…