So Friday night I was at the fave drinking spot with a couple of friends and the beer was flowing -- until they ran out -- and the odd shot (liquid cocaine, well named) as well. The bartender was a quite striking young woman and she and my little group got along very well. She suggested we continue the evening after her shift and then gave a wonderful reason: usually after her Friday shifts she has to be up early Saturday morning to play Barbie at department stores. Like I said, she was striking. So my little group set off for after-hours places up on a certain street in Little Italy.
Sadly, drunkenly, we never did find her. I hope her night ended better. We really wanted to party into the wee hours with Barbie...
Saturday went to Kill Bill and it did little to heal the pain of the previous night. So much killing, so much style, so little life. Now I want to see films with a lot of talking, maybe Whit Stillman and his Barcelona or Last Days of Disco. Dialogue beats a disembowelment.
Sadly, drunkenly, we never did find her. I hope her night ended better. We really wanted to party into the wee hours with Barbie...
Saturday went to Kill Bill and it did little to heal the pain of the previous night. So much killing, so much style, so little life. Now I want to see films with a lot of talking, maybe Whit Stillman and his Barcelona or Last Days of Disco. Dialogue beats a disembowelment.