Threesomes

I became, in my teens, obsessed with the number three and its various permutations. I could count in threes like nobody’s business. I could determine if a number was divisible by three like Kreskin reading minds. I obsessively counted things, mostly letters on signs, marquees, book covers, etc., by three, betting that when I’d finished I would land on a number divisible by three, if not I’d have to move on to the next thing, and on until I finally landed on a number divisible by three. I recognize this now as a form of OCD; there was no name for it then. It ended when I started smoking weed.

Jessie, Bambi, and the Holy Ghost