The bartender has decided to humor me and play the 80s New Wave radio station. “Happy New Year,” she says with disdain for my taste in music. At least one of us is happy. But wait!!!! That’s not true. Two other people are happy, too.
When these two walked in, I turned to Python Lady. “Play it and they will come.”
Indeed. These two walked in from central casting.
He: Mohawk with a bald spot, mutton chop sideburns, five o’clock shadow, soul patch, aviator sunglasses, snaps fingers along with the music. Fashion choice: hoodie from Snake ‘n’ Jake’s Christmas Club Lounge.
She: Spiky bleach blond hair, heavy kohl around the eyes, hoodie under a tattered, faded, blue jean jacket. Ray Bans atop head, the cool way.
I have seen a lot of lived-in faces in my day. Some people dissuade me from wanting to talk to them. The man is whistling right now to the Cars. He needed to charge his phone. The outlet is next to me. I am charging his phone. I refused to engage in conversation. I’m busy. I’m writing this.
