another one

There is a girl who I fell in love with at the yuppie commerce mercantile of choice, the newest one in town at the intersection of upward and mobile. I saw her pushing a cart in the produce section. I looked like an ass; handsfree cord dangling from ear to rear pocket talking about cheese and Bastille day. I wasn't even on the phone with anyone, I just use the headset as an excuse to act crazy in public and force people to deal with it and regard it as normative behavior.

She almost ran into me by the dairy products, I had "hung up" by then.

She has stars tattooed on her triceps and the pixie-esque/elfin appearance of a young Audrey Hepburn. I am besotted with her.

The next day I got my hair cut. and then went to a bar to meet some friends. SHe was there, appearing literal seconds after I told my friends I was again in love. They forced me to go talk to her so I did.

upon my approach my tongue swelled up like an epileptics and I started to froth a little at the mouth. Quite teh sexay. We got past that little difficulty and after a few awkward moments involving my dabbing spittle from the front of my shirt while feeding line after line of charm to her I walked away with a phone number and the distinct impression that I was hated like Mussolini.

I drove into the desert for miles until my cell lost reception and then I plugged in the earpiece and dialed her number. we had a fourty minute conversation about raisng babies with no clothes on some tropical beach, we spoke of that feeling of having found ones soul mate and the instantaneous attraction that was obvious to us both and how we should have got down in the produce section when we first met. I cried and told her of being inappropriately touched by a field hockey coach at the age of seventeen. I can't seem to recall anything she said.

We are in love.


I've spent the past few weeks in a haze I see stars on arms in the oddest places. It is a fevered dream with no end. I put a down payment on a boat and a little chip of an engagement ring from Kaye jewelers. I work three jobs and sleep two hours a night.

Someone told me she moved to Houston. Without telling me. I think I'm going to date a stripper instead.