My friends Erik and Andrew came over last night, and we sat around in my kitchen, as we usually do, talking movies, politics, theatre, religion and relationships and just generally being the over-educated, uncomfortably self-aware, middle-class, white, liberal pseudo-hippies we are.
At my request, each man sang a selection from A New Brain.
Yeah. We’re those people.
Erik brought over his homework, so at one point, he sat on one side of the table poring over a Whitman poem, his brow knitted in frustration, while Andrew, on the other side, slumped in one of my pink IKEA chairs looking like some sort of Abbie Hoffman/Travis Bickle hybrid wearing a Shakespeare t-shirt, surfed the internet, a cigarette dangling languidly from one slender hand. Standing between them, dressed in a miniskirt, I bent over the table and painted my fingernails “Cherries in the Snow” red with an intense concentration usually reserved for scholars studying ancient texts.
I glanced up.
“Look at us,” I said.
Both guys looked around. Clearly, they didn’t see anything noteworthy.
“This is the beginning of a really good story,” I said.
Realizing what I meant, Erik laughed.
“What happens now?” I asked.
Andrew stood. “Suddenly, I walk over the stove and lay my arm on the burner!” he announced. He started toward the stove.
“NO!” Erik and I shouted in unison. “I don’t want my apartment to smell like pork for the next three days,” I explained.
“I wasn’t really going to do it,” Andrew muttered, returning to his chair.
So now it’s your turn…
What happens next?
Your inspired
Kel
Andrew looked up from his browsing, blew out a snake of smoke and said, “You know, I think what we need is a road trip.”
Kelly let out a “Squee!”
Erik looked up from his homework with a doubtful expression, “What?!”
“Yeah,” Andrew answered, gaining confidence in the idea, “You have a globe, Kel?”
Kelly walked over to her bookcase, filled with interesting and intelligent thingamabobs, and grasped her neon-bordered, politically up-to-date globe with the pads of her fingers, her finger tips stretched out, careful not to muss her newly polished nails. After placing it on the table, she said, “So, where to?”
“Let’s let fate decide!” Erik pipes in, and gives the globe a whirl.
DAMN, YOU’RE GOOD!
I love what Cristy wrote! I totally can’t think of anything good…. it’s just too late for my synapses to be firing at full throttle.
I know, right?! So creative.
I realize Cherries in the Snow is a classic, but I’ve always been much more of a Frankly Scarlet kind of woman.
I’m not sure what happens next, but it obviously must involve satsumas.
“…it obviously must involve satsumas.”
I like the way you think.
And the color you paint your nails
Food fight!!!!11
How very “Reality Bites” of us!
This wasn’t a porn until you mentioned the miniskirt.
I was wondering who was going to notice first.
I love the bent over in a miniskirt detail! Set the stage! Haha
Thanks, Daphne!