You Work Out What To Say & Then You Say It
I went to a party hosted by a girl with a clock tattooed on her chest. She introduced me to a boy who incidentally I had known a few years ago but lost touch with, and who now was almost exclusively concerned with shamanism. His new girlfriend had lank hair and said something that I misinterpreted as a slight against my character, but the misunderstanding was quickly resolved and fortunately I didn’t overreact and I also managed to resist the urge to smoke a cigarette. In fact I managed to resist this urge twice. Later I met a man who knew a friend of mine, and he had a big car and a false laugh and once got a girl pregnant and turned into a real prick, apparently, I mean, that’s what Robin told me on the phone afterwards, when I got back from the party half-drunk and sleepy and lit a cigarette as a reward for not smoking a cigarette earlier. But to tell you the truth I wasn’t sure what to believe, or whether or not I was supposed to pretend to care, or why the fuck I went to the party in the first place.
