over tea and a lychee tart i spotted a wholly unintended zeugma while in conversation with someone (whose name i have been forbidden to mention on pain of death): this someone (henceforth x) was telling me about that college experience we’ve all had at one time or another, of avoiding sexile by pretending to be asleep, and said of a roommate: “every night he slept with [a different girl] and i slept with earplugs on.”it’s a sign of being trained properly by michaelson, briggs, and biles all those years ago at virginia that i went straight for the syllepsis rather than the point of the story.
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