I am a hashtag. Of course I am. I am nothing if not a self-contained movement pushing softly against its vessel with warm perspiration and awkward handshakes. Aren't we all. I flew into your town the other night on the back of a giant bird to say a single word. "Thanks," I muttered breathlessly. It sounded like two dry lips clicking together and not like a word at all. Everyone stared. But like any good hashtag, I started a trend. Soon everyone in town started doing the lip click thing. It was great. I laughed all the way to the bank and while I was there I started a savings account. I tried to put three grilled cheese sandwiches and a dirty penny in the savings account. But the penny was so dirty that the bank lady said I couldn't put it in because people might think it was a bug. I told her that all money is like bugs and she said, "Hey, aren't you the guy who started the lip click thing?" I nodded reluctantly. "Those were my hashtag days, m'am," I said. "I'm different now." I watched the giant bird fly away from a bank window. Everything that happened happened yesterday and I had never felt better.