"Poal?" she asks. "Yeah, it's a sort of internet forum. Got a lot of friends there." "Oh. Can you invite me?" "I can't stop you, but be forewarned you have to be open-minded or it'll repulse you." At that moment the salads arrived. Hers a spring mix with pine nuts and a balsamic drizzle, mine a caesar without the croutons. Fuck croutons. As usually happens, the conversation died for a bit while our mouths were otherwise occupied. Somewhere in the salad phase we got our drinks refilled (malbec and old-fashioned). Between her last bites, she asked, "What do you have to do to be an influencer on Poal? Does it pay well?" "No pay. I just make measured and effective contrarian posts." "What sort of subjects do you 'influence' on Poal?" I stared at her with gaze of half-hate, half-sympathy. "What... subjects... Theo?" I continued staring. "OK, you're freaking me out..." "Poetry and White Nationalism," I interrupted impatiently.