Loraine works as a secretary at the office down the street, and since she’s just a temp and doesn’t make enough money to pay rent and eat, she usually uses her lunch break to frequent the various art openings in town so she can get a free bite, maybe get a glass of wine or sake if she’s having an easy day at work, or, if she’s having a busy day, just a bottle of water or a glass of fruit punch. Over the past year, she’s learned which galleries and local artists provide the best food and drinks to patrons, and which ones are guilty of putting out a dried-up cheese plate and a box of room-temperature wine. This particular gallery is one of her favorites, mostly because it always has a pile of mixed nuts set out for patrons, and especially because no one ever tries to chase her away from the pile of nuts. Since coming here, she’s gleaned quite the critical vocabulary--for example, she’s only been here for today for ten minutes and she already knows that the current exhibit, “Love is Nothing but 2 Jars with Crap Shoved in Them,” is “breathtakingly bleak,” “shockingly honest,” and “disruptive to the modern concept of coupling.” Apparently, the artist is stopping by the gallery for a talk later today, but since Loraine has to return to work before then, she’ll have to miss his speech.