They sit in and around a big red chair with cigarette burns on the armrests, waiting all day, a pair of binoculars on a stand by the window. This is what they see me through. “Gather round everyone!” says Tim, the tall bisexual one who never wears pants. “It’s happening!” They take turns looking through the binoculars. This is when I take off my shirt and flex a little. Tim incessantly stops them from walking in front of the camera.