Bobbie, you’ve dropped off the face of the earth…
Come back, bitch. Your friends miss you- especially me.
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Bobbie, you’ve dropped off the face of the earth… Come back, bitch. Your friends miss you- especially me.
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Just a regular, plain ol’ Tuesday night… Went to Empresso, per usual, and decided to speak to a middle-aged man (an indie filmmaker & participant in the early 90’s riots at Franklin High School, as it turned out) with the sole intent of seeing how far I could push him- speaking in terms of toying around with him. Impressed him with my knowledge of Ginsberg, Bukowski, and “Mother’s Little Helper”, even going so far as to ask him to buy me a drink. I smirk at the thought of the poor bastard’s complete and utter enthrallment. Went remarkably well as is evident by his constant repeating of “You’re definitely dangerous” and “You could definitely get me into a lot of trouble”. Ho-hum, just stretching the old flirting muscles. Had him convinced I was of legal age until I finally admitted I was seventeen- to which he replied “Too bad you’re so young- you’d be cool to get to know if you were older.” Fact: NOTHING in the known/ unknown universe is near so satisfying as knowing your power over men. Hmmm. Guess E wasn’t a fluke, and I’m much better than this than previously thought. Poor man- he kept repeating “You make me nervous.” Nervous enough to know you’re nervous, but not near nervous enough to tell me to hit the pavement. God-fucking-dammit. I am good- better yet, GREAT. Went back home, completely enthused at my latest triumph- oh, how self-possessed I am.
Just a regular, plain ol’ Tuesday night…
Went to Empresso, per usual, and decided to speak to a middle-aged man (an indie filmmaker & participant in the early 90’s riots at Franklin High School, as it turned out) with the sole intent of seeing how far I could push him- speaking in terms of toying around with him. Impressed him with my knowledge of Ginsberg, Bukowski, and “Mother’s Little Helper”, even going so far as to ask him to buy me a drink. I smirk at the thought of the poor bastard’s complete and utter enthrallment. Went remarkably well as is evident by his constant repeating of “You’re definitely dangerous” and “You could definitely get me into a lot of trouble”. Ho-hum, just stretching the old flirting muscles. Had him convinced I was of legal age until I finally admitted I was seventeen- to which he replied “Too bad you’re so young- you’d be cool to get to know if you were older.” Fact: NOTHING in the known/ unknown universe is near so satisfying as knowing your power over men. Hmmm. Guess E wasn’t a fluke, and I’m much better than this than previously thought. Poor man- he kept repeating “You make me nervous.” Nervous enough to know you’re nervous, but not near nervous enough to tell me to hit the pavement. God-fucking-dammit. I am good- better yet, GREAT. Went back home, completely enthused at my latest triumph- oh, how self-possessed I am.
