The yeti down there won't leave. Time and again I have made vain attempts to convince those close to me that I am not a sick demented sasquatch imprisoner. "He just moved in. What am I supposed to do? How do you tell a Yeti to get out of your house? I can't get rid of him like I do you guys.... y'know... boy sure is gettin' late, oh hell I have to study, I have to take a shower...." Indeed I have tried these tactics but it all boils down to lacking the proper communication skills. I did it anyway. It's my fault. I'm studying and I take a brownie donut and coffee break, I went down there, stretch my legs. If you are eating a brownie donut and are confronted with an anthropological anomaly, real, hairy, big, and just as freaked out by you as you are by him.... by all means, give him a donut. Do not give him coffee. The donut was for all intensive purpouses not very popular or readily available during his heyday, neither was coffee. Remember this, donuts have inspired little old men to sit on little stools next to little counter tops in little houses colored with pink and orange. Coffee has inspired revolutions, been condemned and blessed by the Vatican, created a whole generation of black turtle neck renegades, and enslaved entire nations. You don't want to fuck around with coffee and Yeti's man. Having said that, I gave him coffee too. I've had to cut him down on that stuff. As anyone facing the manic deluge of ideas brought on by a coffee and donut kick sooner or later it must be heard. Tell the world, I have a plan. I listen patiently as he paces back and forth and occasionally pronounce an affirmative " Ah Ha!" and hold my finger up in a thoughtful pose. Now we have repoir. I have no idea what the plan is, it must be good. Because he does the same thing. Perhaps it's something to do with farming or turning rocks into pointy things, maybe he's come across some cosmic algorithm that no one will ever be able to understand except him ( yet another side effect of glorious coffee). I imagine myself having a movie, books, speaking engagements, bodies of students poring over my works in dank and dusty archive files, like Jane Goodall , only different. The missing link and I clinking tea cups in ivory towers. I've shared this vision with those close to me, that's why they think I won't let him go. No, the Yeti down there won't leave. So , in the meantime, until he chooses to go his merry way, I'm going to keep giving him donuts and coffee. He likes them.