Tonight me and Q walked to pick up her dry cleaning. She was so happy to see her black clothes delivered so clean and shiny. If you didn't know she's a real clean freak about her clothes.
Back outside our apartment, we stopped so she could buy a roasted sweet potato, and i held her clothes for her. Then i thought it'd be a good idea to fetch a plastic bag outta my bag. (A plastic bag saved is a plastic bag earned.)
And i was sure i had all three pieces of clothing secured. Not realizing that there were four. And the rebellious fourth snuck out and hurled itself onto the ground, which was covered in particularly muddy mud.
Q was furious. She gets that way about pristine clothes. i felt bad about it, but not that bad. But there was no question, how it managed to elude both my arm and also its plastic sheathing was a real Houdini move. That fucker. Q angrily threw the forlorn sweet potato to the soggy ground before attempting to wipe the mud off of the other wrapped clothes.
Then we somberly marched back to the cleaners so the lady could laugh at us. Q was mad, humphing and pinching me occasionally. It's true, she knows no middle ground in terms of anger. But... it was kinda sweet somehow. We came back, had a smoke, and then she played some Patrick Duff for me while i put the finishing touches on my painting.
His guitar reminds me of the Jesus and Mary Chain.
pic from http://www.flickr.com/photos/hyperjet/414214512/sizes/m/in/photostream/
No comments:
Post a Comment