You were drinking alone, which isn’t a bad thing except it was 9 am and you were sitting on my steps.
Not that I’m judging. Hell, when I was a kid I thought it a great idea to slide down a telephone pole...in my shorts. So. Yea. What do I know.
Besides, it was only mouthwash you were drinking. Not like it was grain alcohol, right? I mean at least you have great morning breath.
Not sure what the festive occasion was exactly, seeing as it was Monday morning but I was registering some strong feelings toward you.
You hollered some obscenities at me and I thought to myself that your choice of combinations was pretty creative. I like a girl who puts effort into her condescending tirades.
While stumbling away I saw the cutest little ass on you. You only managed to make it to the curb a mere two feet away. But hey, who hasn’t had dry heaves until they pass out in the gutter?
He who is without sin throw the first Pabst blue ribbon is what I always say.
I wanted to chat but I had the girl I’m trying to get rid of with me and, well, you were passed out. I put $10 in your pocket, gently brushed hair out of your face and pulled you onto the sidewalk. I also put the cap back on your listerine. All in all, the kind of story I could envision telling grandkids one day when they ask how we met.
Sadly, when I later returned to mi casa, you were gone. As you were the truest connection I have had in years.
N.
“We do not dream about fucking when we are not able to do it; we rather fuck in order to escape and stifle the excessive nature of the dream that would otherwise overwhelm us."
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