wishing to float on
"I hate him, I hate everything about him. EVERYTHING. I can't stand him. Are you listening to me? Good. Do you understand what I mean? Do you like him? No, you don't. Because of the same reasons I don't like him. Get me? And its never over with him, he always wants the same stuff. Do you understand? He's always touching my breast or rubbing up on my leg, or its one thing or another, hour after hour, always the same. You get me? Yeah?"
I've actually tuned out and I'm leaning against the side of the table with my drink in my hand and watching the crowd. I wish I was somewhere else, I think to myself, away from this meloncholy town of fake love or whatever the hell she's taking about.
A waitress passes and I say, "Another White Russian," tapping on my glass.
"I really can't stand him," she continues. "Ahrggg, what should I do? I know what I should do, call him and make clear that we're not the same as we used to be. Right? That will work, right?"
I down the remaining contents of my drink and look at her.
"If you hate him so much why are you going out with him again? Wasn't one break-up enough?"
Women confuse the hell out of me. I'm wondering to myself if every single one of them is like this...then remember that some arn't and am happy with that thought.
A good song comes on over the speakers,
She looks at me and smiles. "You want to dance?" She asks.
"No." I say.
And the waitress brings out another drink and I'm wishing that I could be floating away from this place, in a wooden boat, down a black rushing river. I think to myself that I like that thought as I start my new drink.
"You're right," she says. "I love him."
And I look at her, half chuckle, half snarl and feel like slamming my head against the table.
I drink instead and wish my cell phone would ring and I could be called away from this place.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I say, realizing for the tenth time tonight that the girl next to me is a complete idiot.
"I don't even know anymore."
"I don't either. You want another drink?"
"Yeah."
I order up.
I've actually tuned out and I'm leaning against the side of the table with my drink in my hand and watching the crowd. I wish I was somewhere else, I think to myself, away from this meloncholy town of fake love or whatever the hell she's taking about.
A waitress passes and I say, "Another White Russian," tapping on my glass.
"I really can't stand him," she continues. "Ahrggg, what should I do? I know what I should do, call him and make clear that we're not the same as we used to be. Right? That will work, right?"
I down the remaining contents of my drink and look at her.
"If you hate him so much why are you going out with him again? Wasn't one break-up enough?"
Women confuse the hell out of me. I'm wondering to myself if every single one of them is like this...then remember that some arn't and am happy with that thought.
A good song comes on over the speakers,
She looks at me and smiles. "You want to dance?" She asks.
"No." I say.
And the waitress brings out another drink and I'm wishing that I could be floating away from this place, in a wooden boat, down a black rushing river. I think to myself that I like that thought as I start my new drink.
"You're right," she says. "I love him."
And I look at her, half chuckle, half snarl and feel like slamming my head against the table.
I drink instead and wish my cell phone would ring and I could be called away from this place.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I say, realizing for the tenth time tonight that the girl next to me is a complete idiot.
"I don't even know anymore."
"I don't either. You want another drink?"
"Yeah."
I order up.
posted by Chris Miles at 12:52 AM
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