in between delis, i slur my speech, i do / do not want mayonnaise (i do not want mayonnaise), the meats and cheeses from the slicer are dropped into the cash register with a huge thud, i decide to go to the other deli
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Fingerprints on striped, ribbed-clear glases, cocktail glasses (plastiqué) with sharp edges, black dress, black girl, red lips, getting sucked into a black VORNADO on the windowsill
Fuck, Job has put me in a horrible state. I'm easily irritated, unavailable, and reek of bad vibes. There's always some other fucking thing to work on.