message in a bottle

I am sitting at a computer cafe in Center City because….you guessed it. My computer has died. I plan on leaving this blog up so anyone who gets this computer next can see my wonderful tre’s interesting blog in hopes they will comment. It’s kind of like that message in a bottle thing when you find it, you slip your message inside.

The man across from me is only seen from the wrist down. He’s pouring himself  a diet coke into a mixed cup of ice. I’m wondering why people need ice in their soda. It’s cold enough when that cute guy with the blackish hair  pulls it out of the fridge.  Orange telephones rest on the computer’s neck. Why are they here? Emergency social cafe. That’s what this should be called. Just incase you NEED to call your friend to tell her that Madonna is in concert in Philly in NOVEMBER. I really want to go.

Mysteriously, a copy of South Philly News was scattered across my stoop this morning. I perused the newspaper in search of something interesting when I found a photograph taken of  a special ed class. I know this really shouldn’t be funny, especially since I WAS in special ed in high school. Just somehow, the goofy faces brought back fond (enough) memories. Next to it was a photograph of a few girls with balloons smiling under the headling ”raising money for fire in south philly row home.” One girl looked as if she was posing for Americas Next Top model. She stood half sideways in that curvacious way that women can pull off. She stood not smiling and staring deep into the photographer’s glare. Yes. This was a ‘smoking look.’ ho ho ho

 

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