(no subject)
i twisted up and away from the musty couch, waspstung, the agony & the ecstacy of saint teresa combined. my friends raised eyebrows, glancing at one another, then the bloated saturn sedan onscreen.
they're using the opening tinkle of 'we've been had,' i explained from the floor. someone coughed. then i dusted myself off and left, embarassed.
it was raining the way it always does in san francisco, a strangely comforting caress of mist, and i left my new parka's hood down. i'd had eight drinks or thereabouts the night before, passed out in an unfamiliar flat, waking to a pot of yellow bile brewing in my stomach. i let the poison wash off of me, and slowly remembered how i'd tried to get a 28-year old to take me home after seemingly passionate talk of cinematography.
but you're too young & cute, she laughed, nearly pinching my cheeks. i thought of informing her that i'm even cuter in a dark theatre, but self-depreciation is a sober art, and i let it drop among the popcorn on the tile.
they're using the opening tinkle of 'we've been had,' i explained from the floor. someone coughed. then i dusted myself off and left, embarassed.
it was raining the way it always does in san francisco, a strangely comforting caress of mist, and i left my new parka's hood down. i'd had eight drinks or thereabouts the night before, passed out in an unfamiliar flat, waking to a pot of yellow bile brewing in my stomach. i let the poison wash off of me, and slowly remembered how i'd tried to get a 28-year old to take me home after seemingly passionate talk of cinematography.
but you're too young & cute, she laughed, nearly pinching my cheeks. i thought of informing her that i'm even cuter in a dark theatre, but self-depreciation is a sober art, and i let it drop among the popcorn on the tile.