Dancing with Valentino

After hearing Joe’s stories, I could see Thorson is disappointed if they come in.   I guess he's expecting some raving beauty instead he gets a 50 year old woman with frizzy red   hair and a puffy face.   Years of drinking had destroyed any beauty I once had.   Joe had to get back to his cab and would not be home until 7am.   I don’t know what he was thinking leaving me alone with a stranger and a lot of hours to kill.   The liquor would help pass the time.

“Call me Aser, ” he said.   I said he could call me Evelyn.

He suggests we go to his apartment down the hall.   We grab the bottles and walk the few steps to his place. It really is much cleaner than mine.   The table isn’t littered with empty beer bottles and the sink isn’t stacked with dirty dishes.   I had abandoned cleaning my apartment way back when and left the job to Joe.   I didn’t have the energy anymore.

The evening wore on with more drinking and listless conversation.   Aser is a nervous character. He’s constantly snapping his fingers and toe-tapping to imaginary music. The more he drinks the edgier he becomes; I‘m too drunk to think any such thing of his actions.   I’m sitting there enjoying another whiskey, when he starts making demands.

“Joe said you were a chorus girl in the Follies, ” he said,

“Show me how you danced. ”





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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)