apparently I am very forgettable.
"Oh..." (First off we never slept together.) "Yeah..." (but we've been introduced time and time again) "Hey" (hung out for hours actually.) what's up" (there is no question. Just a statement. They are not really expecting an answer.) There is only the slow turn of our bodies in the opposite direction.(sigh)
"i am not the oldest person here. I am not the oldest person here." a mantra I repeat over and over as i scan the crowd of scantly clad tattooed Sailor Jerry dolls and the skinny tight jean droopy draw dweebs that love them sipping on mason jars of planters punch and gnaw on slabs of bacon butchered in the cellars beneath our chuck tailored feet.
Alas, the lies I tell myself rattle in the bottom of my empty glass since there is no one here to spread them over.... I head to the front door. No one says a word. To me. I slip past the door baby and her latest admirer (who really just wants to get past her, through the front door without the magic wooded coin that grants one passage to a bevy of rum infused cocktails and pork laden buns dripping with sauce.) I turn for one last glance, not one bespecked soul notices.
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