“It’s a Fishbowl,” he says. He corrects me now. “I’ll meet you at The Fishbowl,” I tell him. Subscribe and get unlimited access to our online magazine archive. When I try to stand, he will not remove his hands from around my neck. His arms are a lei draped around my collar. I stand and he dangles there, his body the totem on the end of a necklace. His fingers are interlaced and so I am forced to utilize The Monkey Bloat. * * * The Monkey Bloat: This is where I expand my face, especially my cheeks, sometimes suddenly, sometimes incrementally. I do it with fear and confusion in my ...