Self Absorption at Discount Prices.

I’m sorry I made you stay up for 2 hours watching archived Siskel and Ebert reviews. Yes I thought they were a little harsh with Reservoir Dogs, but what are you going to do? Now go to sleep, it’s 4:37 AM.

Love,

Dave

thisisimportant:

“Have you been in the store recently?” the boy asked.

“yes” I lied.

“Great. This is all the fall merchandise and the summer clothes are now 50% off.”

I nodded, sort of smugly, as if to indicate that I was the sort of person who didn’t even look at sale racks. I began to stroke the fabrics, pinching the shoulders of sweaters between my thumb and index finger, as if critiquing their quality. I studied details I imagined were factors- “are these buttons gold plated? Was this made overseas? Is this 100% cashmere, or a blend?” The first blouse was silky and paisley and cost a thousand dollars. Inside I was flabbergasted, but on the outside I was bored. A fat, greasy man sat in a leather library chair, his mouth gaping open as he poked at his cell phone. He waited for a tall girlfriend with yellow hair to emerge from behind a curtain and say “Come to the back room with me!” “Ooh, the back room” he muttered, in the same mutter he probably mutters when he she is naked and he’s looking at her. She grabbed a leather jumpsuit from the wall and asked, “Should I try this on?” and, with no response, took it off the hook and disappeared again behind the curtain. He remained in the leather chair. I approached a table of tiny glass bottles with French names, bringing each to my nose for judgement. Too herbal, too musky. I settled on one to spray on my wrists and began to float towards the exit. “Oh you’re so bad!” I overheard the young salesgirl say to the boy. The rest of the day is spent with my wrist to my nose. Somewhere there is a lady, also with with her wrist to her nose, wearing a thousand dollar blouse and she and I smell the same.

So you started blogging again, did you?