"This is what I do," she said, running her finger along his mustache, dispersing a small foamy hitchiker.
"You fondle mustaches of guys at shows?" he countered.
"No, this," she said pointing at his mustache. "I'm a stylist."
"Ah, you do man-scaping."
"I do it all," she said, raising her eyebrow again.
"Well, I have a stylist and I'm very loyal," he said, "been seeing her for years. I generally stick with a stylist until they either move away or die."
Her expression shifted from mischief to delight.
"Oh my god you're funny."
He shrugged, "As far as I know only one stylist actually died on me. I think. I didn't feel comfortable asking. But that was a long time ago."
"For real?" she asked, her eyes widening.
"Yeah, I think so," he said, "and here's the real deal. I'm not mad about you being married because I don't need anything from you. I'm having fun just being here. And I'm a little drunk. What you decide to do with or without your husband has zero impact on my happiness right now and gives me no reason to be upset. You seem like a nice person. So I ask, why should anyone be mad at you for being married?"
"Lots of guys get mad when they find out. Maybe they think I'm wasting their time," she said, leaning in close to deliver the last few words almost directly into his ear.
"Well. Sucks to be them," he said and finished his drink.
The music had stopped pulsing and the crowd was twittering anxiously, anticipating their favorite songs being played next. A few notes punched across the venue, punctuated by equal parts excited cheer and disappointed sigh. Nobody can sigh like a crowd of hipsters, he thought to himself.
***
I'm falling...
Will rolled onto his stomach, the previous night not hazy just gone. His head felt like a frozen block of butter; solid but smushed on the corners where it had attempted to roll. He felt thick. His melty feeling head was all that kept him on the floor. His legs and arms waved away from it like streamers on a chinese kite. Suddenly the world oriented itself by ninety degrees and his limbs took purchase on the floor, heaving his body to the bathroom before his body heaved itself against the
"You fondle mustaches of guys at shows?" he countered.
"No, this," she said pointing at his mustache. "I'm a stylist."
"Ah, you do man-scaping."
"I do it all," she said, raising her eyebrow again.
"Well, I have a stylist and I'm very loyal," he said, "been seeing her for years. I generally stick with a stylist until they either move away or die."
Her expression shifted from mischief to delight.
"Oh my god you're funny."
He shrugged, "As far as I know only one stylist actually died on me. I think. I didn't feel comfortable asking. But that was a long time ago."
"For real?" she asked, her eyes widening.
"Yeah, I think so," he said, "and here's the real deal. I'm not mad about you being married because I don't need anything from you. I'm having fun just being here. And I'm a little drunk. What you decide to do with or without your husband has zero impact on my happiness right now and gives me no reason to be upset. You seem like a nice person. So I ask, why should anyone be mad at you for being married?"
"Lots of guys get mad when they find out. Maybe they think I'm wasting their time," she said, leaning in close to deliver the last few words almost directly into his ear.
"Well. Sucks to be them," he said and finished his drink.
The music had stopped pulsing and the crowd was twittering anxiously, anticipating their favorite songs being played next. A few notes punched across the venue, punctuated by equal parts excited cheer and disappointed sigh. Nobody can sigh like a crowd of hipsters, he thought to himself.
***
I'm falling...
Will rolled onto his stomach, the previous night not hazy just gone. His head felt like a frozen block of butter; solid but smushed on the corners where it had attempted to roll. He felt thick. His melty feeling head was all that kept him on the floor. His legs and arms waved away from it like streamers on a chinese kite. Suddenly the world oriented itself by ninety degrees and his limbs took purchase on the floor, heaving his body to the bathroom before his body heaved itself against the
