My goal in writing this book has been to create a conversation around the subject of hanging out, one that clears a space for the serious consideration of how such a simple act became so incredibly hard for many of us, and what might be done to dismantle some of the pressures and obstacles that persist in making it that way. For instance, one of the biggest hindrances to hanging out, as I argue throughout the book, is rooted not just in the demands of work but in the blind drive toward ceaseless productivity, even when “work,” in a formal sense, is not even supposed to be part of the equation. In a production-obsessed society, complaints against hanging out are often framed in racist or classist terms: we are suspicious of those who hang out when they ought to be working and producing, or suspicious of activities that do not resemble our personal understandings of work. We look askance at the people who engage in them; we pass laws designed to inhibit their abilities to congregate and evade work; we banish them and tell them to take their hanging out elsewhere—to the worst parts of our cities, to private spaces that quarantine them and the whole, generalized infection of idleness.