“Come on, we got to go. It’s about to start.”
* * *
I haven’t heard this song in a long time, I thought.
“Either have I?” someone said in my ear. I turned and nodded in recognition of the comment.
“It reminds me of when I was a kid. Younger.” she said. I nodded.
“Same, although I don’t remember when I heard it for the first time.”
She smiled, “Let’s just call it the “nineties” and leave it there.
I smiled, It’s great being 29. “Do you ever sing along, and then find yourself wondering when you learnt the lyrics? You never knew them before?”
“I don’t bother wasting seconds on something so massively unimportant.” She smirks at me. (Yes, smirks)
“Yeah. I have a lot of time on my hands.” She’s still smirking.
“And I love it. I love mouthing along silently.” She laughed. What? Said my quiz-ative look.
“That’s an odd comment, saying you love “mouthing” lyrics. Sounds gay…”
I agreed, “..When you say it like that.”
“So”, she says, “Why are you dressed up at this time of day? Unemployed? Job interview? What? Tell me?”
“I got a thing.”
“Ooooh. Wow. Fine. Fuck you.” She reached into her bag, found some smokes, grabbed them, pulled one from the pack and lit it. I watched the whole time.
“Something you don’t want to talk about obviously,” she confirmed.
“Yeah, for now.”
“What else do you do?”
I paused, breathed in (not for effect I assure you, I just needed to breathe in). “Work. Sleep. Listen to music. Masturbate.”
“Fair bit I presume?”
“Defo”. She raised her eyebrows.
“That’s better written than said out loud.”
“I realised that now. Never said it before in a non-email or non-text situation. So, what do you do?”
“Study. Work. Read. Drink.”
“I drink too.”
“Smoke. Hate on hipsters and their stupid bikes.”
“I see.”
“So stranger, your name?”
“You want to add me on Facebook?”
“Yeah. Right. No dating without thorough dissection of your online profile. What are his favourite films and what are his thought’s on Post-New Wave-Korean Hardcore cinema?”
“I love Post-New Wave-Korean Hardcore.” She laughed.
“Not the band silly.”
“You at school today?”
“Yeah, an early class and then one in the afternoon. Coffee now. It’s sunny right now, but still chilly.”
“Thanks for the weather update. Odd of train of thought. Choo Choo.”
“You’re odd.”
“Plans for tonight?”
“You asking me out?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t know. Maybe drinks.”
“Alcohol is fucking great.”
“You allowed to swear in a suit?”
“White collar crimes were invented by the hulking, blue, illiterate proletariat to discredit the enlightened and therefore better bourgeoisie.
“Marry me.”
“After my thing,” I said.
* * *
