Ort.

Surgeons slicing open abdomens in the hospital 22 blocks behind him, wearing Phillies scrub caps. Chihuahuas pattering the sidewalks, wearing Phillies sweater vests. Old homeless men, conversing furiously with themselves, wearing Phillies T-shirts. A sex-shop window mannequin with two black leather bondage belts across its chest—in the so-called Gayborhood, just a couple of blocks away from Cliff’s red light—no longer wearing the Phillies jersey it used to because the proprietor grew sick and tired, even after posting a sign in the window saying WE DO NOT CARRY PHILLIES MERCHANDISE, of shoppers wandering through the sex toys and porn in search of Phillies merchandise. Look around, Cliff. This is what heaven looks like.