Waiting for the next customer…
The other day I had finished with one date and was waiting for the next one. He was due to arrive in two and a half hours. If there was more time I would have taken off the makeup completely and stepped out for a bite to eat. I had smoked a little 420 with the earlier date and had the munchies.
So there I was, fully decked out in Cassandra’s sluttiest ensemble. I was splayed out on my bed, my head propped up by my right hand and elbow, eating microwave popcorn, and watching the Rachel Maddow show. And I caught a brief glimpse of myself in the reflection on my television screen. Who is this sex kitten on my bed, wearing a garter hose with lace panties and a satin waist cincher? It’s like that Magritte painting with the green apple head. I’m looking at the reflection of myself in my bedroom and the absurdity in this image is ME! I don’t know how to better describe the feeling of the moment. It didn’t even seem like it was me that I was looking at. More like I’m looking at a Diane Arbus photograph, with the caption reading: “Transvestite prostitute waiting for the next customer, circa 2009.”
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Tags: life
i hate the way time works sometimes. you know its like when u get home from work time flys by till its time to go to bed. u sit down crack a beer and start watching tv the next thing you know you killed your half rack and its already 11 o clock. it always seems like when u have something planed after work or for the weekend time ticks as fast as a slug on a salt trail. i find it very strange the way somethings in the world work. like when you get a dime for change you just toss it to the street or leave ity but then later in the day you go buy a soda from a store and your ten cents short now you got to put it on the plastic and pay a fee because you didnt spend enough money. great story i love this pic of you. its bow chicka bowwow so hot cant wait to read another post till next time. cozy
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next story coming soon. i gotta lay off the 420. it’s giving me a-motivational syndrome