[EcM] February - Specialize in me...
You specialize in something until one day you find it is specializing in you. - Arthur Miller
I know the con. The way a smile and a well placed hand to the small of a ladies back and push them that much closer to exactly where you want them. I know how a small suggestion can branch out into a full fledged idea that seems just a hair shy of brilliance. I know it's easier to do than most thing, but ain't much else to say about that sort of work. It's more about the way you sell yourself instead of the way you sell whatever the hell you're actually selling.
I was damn good at it too. All a simple routine, a dance... a fucking game to me most times. Gotta love it when they do all the work for you too. That slow sly smile that creeps across my lips when she says those pretty words, "Let me talk to my husband." Ain't never heard a sweeter sound than that... course we're still talking business. The lighter... warmer words spurn up a few thoughts that there were more than a few words that trickle into my ears and spin wicked lies a bit tighter.
I took his name a while back too, not looking back to being James Ford... I pushed that name on me like a badge of honor... or denial. I was Mr. Sawyer, and I was just going to take his life over since he did a bang up job stealing most of mine away. Years as another man, and I still hadn't a fucking clue as to who the hell he was.
Maybe I spent too much time focusing on the con... damn near conned myself into thinking I was better than him. I'm just some man that got trapped in my own lies.
Fucking shame you ask me. The real Sawyer stole the one thing I can't ever get back.
Me.
I know the con. The way a smile and a well placed hand to the small of a ladies back and push them that much closer to exactly where you want them. I know how a small suggestion can branch out into a full fledged idea that seems just a hair shy of brilliance. I know it's easier to do than most thing, but ain't much else to say about that sort of work. It's more about the way you sell yourself instead of the way you sell whatever the hell you're actually selling.
I was damn good at it too. All a simple routine, a dance... a fucking game to me most times. Gotta love it when they do all the work for you too. That slow sly smile that creeps across my lips when she says those pretty words, "Let me talk to my husband." Ain't never heard a sweeter sound than that... course we're still talking business. The lighter... warmer words spurn up a few thoughts that there were more than a few words that trickle into my ears and spin wicked lies a bit tighter.
I took his name a while back too, not looking back to being James Ford... I pushed that name on me like a badge of honor... or denial. I was Mr. Sawyer, and I was just going to take his life over since he did a bang up job stealing most of mine away. Years as another man, and I still hadn't a fucking clue as to who the hell he was.
Maybe I spent too much time focusing on the con... damn near conned myself into thinking I was better than him. I'm just some man that got trapped in my own lies.
Fucking shame you ask me. The real Sawyer stole the one thing I can't ever get back.
Me.