I’m also meeting a lot of lesbians for some reason
In addition to the Swedish girls, I met a bunch of really attractive lipstick lesbians/bisexuals this past weekend.
Me: Why are you giving me your number?
Her: If you wanna call me, call me, if you don’t, f___ off.
Me: OK. Just to be clear, you mostly like the girlies, yeah?
Her: Yeah, and? (pause) Y’know, gimme back my f____ number.
Her: So what’s your story?
Me: I’m looking for Ms. Right in the big city.
Her: (laughing) Funny, so am I.
The second girl and I have swapped a few emails; she’s in a similar profession. She’s very nice – she’s also a full-on Jewish lesbian. I’m sure she’s a pescatarian from NJ too but I didn’t ask.
Seem to get along with girlies that like the girlies. Modern America.
In the book, Logan’s Run, I’d be 13 years post prime; in the movie, I’d be 4.
Either way, I’m last year’s model.
This week, because of the accident, I did some reassessing. I found out that I was deleted by some people.
And I deleted some people – friends, former loves, acquaintances and about two dozen people I’m embarrassed to say that I just don’t remember.
Some I’ve known for a few days and some I’ve known for 14 years.
I’ve blinked and it’s 2007.07.18. One of you should have called me to let me know that I’m an anachronism.
Sent an email. Even a text. Telegram, maybe?
Speaking of telegrams, damn that AT&T.;
Here’s 2% of why I hate them; there’s another 98% I could tell you.
Location: 1PM yest., on the BQE to Staten Island
Mood: hella busy
Music: Just get to me I don’t care just get to me