Wednesday, May 02, 2012



“We should go to a nice place… you know, you, me and her.

“No… I have no money for a nice place.”

“No… circa 2005… nic-e pl-ace… come on.”

“Ok… just like old times.”

“Yes, yes circa 2005.”

“You remember that Mexican place, it had rodeo bar stools. and the worst food ever.”

“What rodeo bar stools?”

“I don’t know, I said do y-o-u remember that Mexican place.”
“ No.”

“ We should go to a shady bar and take cheap shots…”


“ … and then step out and start shopping… great bargains… we can be from Muscat again or maybe Mauri-tius-s-s-s  this ti-m-e-e-e.”

“Ye-s-s-s-s-s-s… we are older now, we can be from Mauritius-s-s-s.”

“…or-r-r-r-r, we can be Mexi-can-n-n-n.”


“ Do you remember that not-so-nice place where the wooden floor was broken and someone’s foot got stuck in it dancing.”

“That was me.”

“No you were dead on a couch… I remember I felt guilty having fun, so we dragged your limp body to the floor and shook your arms and waist, and then after a minute we let you go, thinking… you know… the rhythm is gonn-a-get-y-a-a-a-a-a.”

“It-t-t did.”

“It-did-not… maybe you made that hole in the floor.”

“Can we just go to a nice place so-o-o-o-on?”

“Yes… which is the nic-est place I have never been to….”

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