9.11.2009

Essex inn

Isn't it just wacky when you're at a place you used to be so superstisious of? I used to sit outside the museum in which I worked and gaze lovingly at a hotel I could see, imagining all the mischief I could get myself into had my boyfriend wanted to meet me there. 6 years later, I stare at it from the other side. But probably equally as frustrated and dreamy.

I used to fantasize about the city. Seeing the pretty skyline and stunning museums, but now I notice a girl whose shoes are too tight and she is walking like she has blisters the size of Russia. I hope she relaxes and takes her shoes off soon. And I see Ed hardy clothes. Yuck. And this real skinny norweigan kid with "synthesis" tattooed on his arm and Norway tattooed on his leg. Tacky. And I have a fifth of vodka in my purse.

So there's that inn. Looming off in the distance. I could reach out and touch it, but I left my condoms at home.

-- Desperately posted mobilly.

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