3:30 am, I'm standing in front of the freezer doors, looking at the Haagen Das, $1.99 sign, and the night has peaked again. So, after I grab 2, I go to the empty check-out line, standing under some powerful florescent lights. The guy on the cell phone comes over to ring me up; too busy talking, he doesn't seem to notice I've got this big wet spot on my undershirt, running down from the collar, just below the wet, matted chest hairs. I must've lost 5 pounds sweating in that backroom.