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Thursday June 21, 2001, 00:49
He was wearing Diesel jeans and a grey cotton shirt. She was wearing a turquoise top with frilly short sleeves and a black skirt. Her sandals had flowers on them. Black sandals, black flowers. They were standing on line in front of me buying exactly two rolls of Bounty, one bottle of facial cleanser and, as a cash-register-impulse-buy, one bag of Skittles. He paid with a Chase Bank debit card. And they were hot.
She had bad skin but great hair, and a nice smile. He had a slacker, unshaven look about him. And they couldn't keep their hands off of each other. He held the Bounty in his hands but nuzzled his nose up to her ear. She would smile and run her hands across his face. He muttered, she swooned. She turned and saw me watching them. She smiled and whispered something back at him. They laughed some more and continued to purr in front of me.
I stood there holding my quart of milk thinking that these people are New York. The couple at the drug store at eleven in the evening buying paper towels and toiletries. These people walking home, hand in hand in grocery bag, smiling and stopping occasionally to kiss each other on the lips. The entire experience was New York, actually. My realization that I was out of milk. My lamenting the fact that I would have nothing to go with my cereal upon waking tomorrow morning before going to work. My further realization that I live across the street from a 24 hour drug store that sells, among other things, milk. My heading out the door, keys in hand, no socks, and the first pair of pants I could find. The fact that the drug store had half a dozen shoppers in there at eleven thirty on a Wednesday evening.
I also made a deliberate choice to walk by the woman standing at the nail polish display. I noted her hair which was short, but not too short, and her industrial piercing. I noted that there was no way I was actually going to pick up a woman in the nail polish aisle at the drug store but imagined various scenarios in which she would look up and decide to say something to me instead, since these things never happen to me. I even walked around one of the displays an extra time so that I could look at her more to see whether she was actually attractive or if she was just deceptively so, having style and such without actual appealing features. She was, in fact, actually attractive.
It appears that all of the people at one of the theatres that I frequent are all very beautiful. This is not a particular revelation but for the fact that it is currently summer and, more-so than in springtime, everyone is charged with something of a sexual energy.
Yes, including me.
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