Musette and I got into a fight because she sent me a text message, telling me to leave the apartment, to meet her, in five minutes and I took longer than five minutes to leave, causing her to stand out in the rain waiting for me. She also called me six times while I was on my way, but my ringtone didn’t go off, so I didn’t answer her. I was listening to Berlin Community Radio through my headphones connected to my phone and I had my phone set to priority interruptions only and I guess my phone thought that Musette calling me was not a priority in regards to listening to Berlin Community Radio?

I was like, damn you Gacy! What trouble you do so land me in, so full of color and wonder of sound, so killing me while stretching out my young meat ass.

A new one ripped. A jealous god.

The domestic symphony unveiling its nude majesty at around the twenty minute mark.

She was so upset when I finally answered. I could see it all over her face when we met. It’s just amazing to me how some days I can be to her such the hero and others so the fool.

We walked to the bar angrily, voices rising louder with each step. It was only a block away. There are swirls painted on the window of an adjoining Starbucks. Many people were outside smoking and talking. Just as I am about to enter, a bouncer departs from a group of smokers and asks for our identification.

While we are looking for it, he asks if we are with chef’s week.

I tell him I guess so.

He puts a gold band around our wrists.

We give him our IDs and he thanks us by name, letting us into the bar.

There are a lot of people from her work there. I don’t know many of their names. I do see Hank though. He is talking to someone I don’t know. I touch him and he doesn’t respond.

We went to lunch with him, Saphire, Trisha, and Brian at a Vietnamese noodle restaurant earlier. I ordered a stir fry dish. Trisha ordered the same dish as I did. She ordered first, pronouncing the name of the dish correctly. When I ordered, I pronounced the name incorrectly, even though I had just heard her proper pronunciation.

The dish had large, flat noodles with scrambled egg and pork. The word “phat” was in the title. Trisha pronounced it “padt”, and I pronounced it ” fat”.

Brian ordered the same dish as Saphire, some sort of pork soup. Hank got the special, which was a fourteen dollar coconut curry dish. And Musette took the waiter’s recommendation, getting a meatball soup with his favorite type of noodle.

She didn’t eat very much of it. The meatballs were small and looked like withered up eyeballs. When the check came, she took a container. The waiter asked if she didn’t like it.

Musette told him she did, but that she didn’t eat very much of it because it was her breakfast.

We had both had coffee. Saphire had a Thai iced tea which was not included on the check. Everyone else had beer. Trisha drank two Singha, a Thai beer.

We were the only two who had to to work after the meal. Everyone else had the day off. Saphire dropped us off and her and Hank met up with Trisha and Brian at The Trough. By the time we met them at Switchblade, they were all very drunk.


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