Sign Of The Times

My circle of friends here in the Smallish City has adopted a kabbalahic system of numerologic identification. I, for example, am 4. My friend 2 lives with friend 1. 1 dates 517, while I date 777. 3, not surprisingly, has three legs. 9 doesn’t get out much, but is considered an honorary part of the crowd. I can easily tell you how each individual got his or her number—though when it all started, and why, I can’t recall.

Sometimes, when there is a crowd of friends, the aggregate is referred to by the sum of its parts. In the wee hours of this morning, I received my first text-message engagement announcement. It said simply “518 to wed!”