Re-arranging the deck chairs on the Hindenburg
This is post number 201. For the all Colbert post please scroll down. No really-just stop now and scroll down. Click on the links. Support The Man, The Myth, The Eyebrow.
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This post is a little closer to the old hearth.
When I got out of my last Public Folklore class I called Mik to see if she'd made dinner. I have no idea what she would've made for dinner but I figured she's an artist, she must have some level of creativity. She didn't answer so I listened to Holidays on Ice on CD, a very out of season but thoroughly enjoyable CD. "Dinah the Christmas Whore" is such a great story. I wanna Christmas whore everytime I encounter "st night, 1AM her phone rang. She answered it. Oh thank God, that means the beeping will stop. She came into the living room.
"So, I met this guy when I went out the other night. His name is Garson, he's a hillbilly but we kinda made out. Then he called me tonight."
I took Coupland out for a walk. When I re-entered the apartment I walked to the bedroom door, "Girl?"
"Yeh?"
"Did you say his name is Garson? Like the French, garcon?"
"It's spelled with an S"
I doubled over laughing.
She howled. "It's a totally different word."
Her phone rang. She mumbled a series of phrases.
"I'm going to go hang out with my hillibilly boy toy," she said.
I laughed. "Shit, motherfucker, this is some kind of motherfuckin' shit," I drawled. "You might want to work that into the conversation, It'll make him feel comfortable."
She was walking out the door, "I'll probably be home, but if I'm not, I'm cool."
"Don't do anything I wouldn't...oh nevermind," I said.
"Yeh, seriously, that would limit how I would spend my evening, wouldn't it?"
She slammed the door behind her.
I refilled my glass with Ole Kentucky Booze and homemade sour mix, Coupland moved to the other couch.
She didn't lock the door behind her.
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