|
a real life by David Fishkind |
|
We all get up, there are seven of us including Jon and me. We are going to 7/11 to get Arizona Grapeade! The streets sparkle and cars are speeding by. It’s twelve o’clock. I’m saying are we going home, the next train is not until tomorrow morning. We are not going home. How will I explain this? I will not explain anything. The only places open at twelve o’clock in Boston, even on a Saturday night, are clubs and bars. People file in and out drunk and sloppy. This is on Commonwealth, where people should not be so drunk and sloppy. This is the lifestyle of the rich and unimpressive. I drink my Grapeade far too quickly.
Next |