For years, he's been a lot like this restaurant fan, spinning around and getting noplace. What, when it comes right down to it, is the difference between him and mayfly, which lives a whole damned adult existence in twenty-four hours? The way Ben sees it, he's just about passing by hour nineteen right now, given the statistics for a man's longevity. If five more hours is what he's got left, he might as well live, he might as well stay to hell with it and, for once, just go out and do as he pleases.