Thursday, October 10, 2002

Back in the I pulled my 76 Ford Maverick (COMPLETE with 8-track player...who's yer daddy?) into its usual berth in front of everybodys favorite watering hole, QB's, who should I spy with my little bloodshot eye but my friend Franky, Mr. Sensitive himself, chatting up some young ladies in an adjacent car. He was leaning over their window wearing his fiercest "I am so cool... I am James Dean I am..." attitude. (100 points and a cookie to anyone who can correctly identify that reference.) With my usual grace and sophistication, I began to think to myself "Hot Damn!! Gurls!!"(Yes, I was quite contemplative in my youth.) So I ask Frank to introduce me to his new friends. In his customary (not to mention patented) sensitive manner he replied "I dunno. Some new girls from California or Florida or somewhere." Intrigued by the prospect of out-of-town girls (who might as yet be uninformed of my general piglike manner and thus, dare I think it, actually DATE me), I leaned out my window to have a closer look. I have an impresssion of one of the girls jumping from her passenger seat, most literally leapfrogging the hood of my vehicle, and all of a sudden there she was, this girl in a leopard-print bikini from California or Florida or the fucking moon for all I knew, right there, in my car! I was utterly speechless (an occurrence rare in the extreme). "Hi!" she bubbled, all impish smile and bobbing kewpie curls and cute little upturned nose. "I'm BROOK. Do you have any POT?"
Turns out I didn't. My luck.


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