She stood, so waitressy celebrity contemporary singer/songwriter
francesca lia block, tony blair, bill gates, mark wahlberg, bush, keith truesdell, andy ackerman, independent artists, mandana beigi, applications, contemporary, comedy video, anti fascism, makaveli video, true stories, dirty t shirts, name and tagline, tupac shakur lyric, david bluestein, harbinger productions, contemporary singer/songwriter, kadafee, thelast detail, whois, “You don’t know them!?” I asked as the girl straddled the guy, her shoe nearly knocking over my customers drink. “No, they just sat here.” The girl was now dry humping her older companion as they passionlessly made out, looking more like extras on a porno rather than a couple celebrity that celebrity couldn’t contain their attraction. “Folks, can you please take that somewhere else.” The couple celebrity glanced at me distractedly, their eyes blank. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as little as we were, yet they resumed their pseudo passion. After another interminable minute of drugged-out, sloppy kisses, they finally got up to move to a bar stool where she could grind on him to her hearts content. As I watched them leave, my disconnect extended beyond my reflection. I was an anthropologist from the future, maybe even an alien observing mankind. Suddenly, I felt how temporary they were. How temporary we all were. I looked around, one by one the people in the club disappeared.
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She stood, so waitressy with her upright posture and her ponytail swinging. Staring without my usual critical scrutiny, I found her to be contemporary singer/songwriter prettier than I think of myself and younger looking than I feel. A wave of affection enveloped me, as if she was my child, and then I thought, “What a good kid.” After another second of staring I shook it off, reminding myself, “The ‘kid’ is you, Psycho.” With my indulgent analysis over, I went back outside to bring contemporary singer/songwriter more gin and tonics to drunk customers. The music was blaring, as wanna-be hipsters and clubbers contemporary singer/songwriter on E danced to the beat. I grabbed two drinks and walked over to one of my tables. “Excuse me,” said a woman as I approached, “could you tell them to stop.” She nodded towards a couple which had plopped themselves practically on her lap and were now making out.
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