aplus
09-14-2005, 08:46 AM
http://slumz.boxden.com/showthread.php?t=447019
Crit or Compliment...any feedback appreciated...
Selective Memory
Nikki Singer. You were a prissy grad student from the local university, an attractive but prude woman who had more education than any human could possibly need. I was only a junior at the time, so our age difference guaranteed that the relationship was doomed from inception. Not to mention the fact that I was a slacker, while you were a zealous overachiever who believed that success never hits the snooze button. But you had an extremely cute face, along with a perfect health-club body and a tiny waistline that was about the circumference of a signpost. So I stuck it out, just to see if we could manufacture some chemistry between us. Eventually I realized that we couldn’t, but not until after we had gone on several dates, dates where I usually ended up paying for everything, despite my meager collegiate budget.
For our third date, we got together at our favorite bar on campus, a few minutes after my evening psych class. Later that night, when we were both even more drunk than usual, you showed me something that I had never known before, something that I will undoubtedly use for the rest of my life. You informed me, complete with a visual demonstration, that if I sprinkle a couple pinches of salt on my cocktail napkin, then it would never stick to the bottom of my beer mug.
At the time it was the coolest thing ever, but now I hate you for teaching me your little trick. There are countless friends and lovers and classmates that I have long since forgotten, folks who meant so much more to me, people that I have simply lost track of and would genuinely try to get a hold of, that is, if I could just recall their name or their phone number. But I still remember you. How can I forget? I am reminded of you every time I’m unwinding after work at happy hour with co-workers, every time I’m at a nightclub trying to pick up a young lady with loose morals, and every time I’m at a sports bar watching the big game with my boys. Thanks to your simple lesson, your name has left its indelible signature on my limited memory. And I hate you for that, Nikki. I fu*king hate you for that.
Crit or Compliment...any feedback appreciated...
Selective Memory
Nikki Singer. You were a prissy grad student from the local university, an attractive but prude woman who had more education than any human could possibly need. I was only a junior at the time, so our age difference guaranteed that the relationship was doomed from inception. Not to mention the fact that I was a slacker, while you were a zealous overachiever who believed that success never hits the snooze button. But you had an extremely cute face, along with a perfect health-club body and a tiny waistline that was about the circumference of a signpost. So I stuck it out, just to see if we could manufacture some chemistry between us. Eventually I realized that we couldn’t, but not until after we had gone on several dates, dates where I usually ended up paying for everything, despite my meager collegiate budget.
For our third date, we got together at our favorite bar on campus, a few minutes after my evening psych class. Later that night, when we were both even more drunk than usual, you showed me something that I had never known before, something that I will undoubtedly use for the rest of my life. You informed me, complete with a visual demonstration, that if I sprinkle a couple pinches of salt on my cocktail napkin, then it would never stick to the bottom of my beer mug.
At the time it was the coolest thing ever, but now I hate you for teaching me your little trick. There are countless friends and lovers and classmates that I have long since forgotten, folks who meant so much more to me, people that I have simply lost track of and would genuinely try to get a hold of, that is, if I could just recall their name or their phone number. But I still remember you. How can I forget? I am reminded of you every time I’m unwinding after work at happy hour with co-workers, every time I’m at a nightclub trying to pick up a young lady with loose morals, and every time I’m at a sports bar watching the big game with my boys. Thanks to your simple lesson, your name has left its indelible signature on my limited memory. And I hate you for that, Nikki. I fu*king hate you for that.