imaginationship

The video store actually turns into Kevin Bacon. Through it, one can find six degrees of separation to anyone in the city. This includes you and your unicorn, Philip. Remembering the insanity that follows this first encounter makes you chuckle internally. It has an 8 millimeter 1960s snuff film quality, the whole period of intoxicated madness is like a dime pulp fiction. With radiohead playing on your internal record player with the scratches and the warm analog sound, imagine the guy from High Fidelity. One that postures, is not in any way stable, but makes you smile.

Philip’s on his way to Paris with his girlfriend. He thinks you have a thing for him then, he does the head nod. He’s the proto-hipster. Such cool hauteur. A couple of weeks later he drops into a sex-toy party held at your girlfriend’s house. When you
showed up at that party you were sober. You brought two bottles of cheap pinot grigio, and were pressured into creating a myspace account. Bored in your shirt, you borrowed Daphne’s Marc Jacobs kelly green and baby blue shirt, two sizes too small. “Oh well it makes my tits look huge.” A bottle later…

The man behind the counter asked you if you were too intoxicated to purchase what you put on the counter. You can’t remember what it was anymore. “Of course, I’m not intoxicated!”

Later, tanked, you walked out of the apartment with two of Daphne’s guests. blonde
Abercrombie boys. Walking up the street towards the bar you said, “Watch this.” And then you punched a girl in the shoulder. You didn’t know her. She and her friend were just some plastic girls. They turned around, “What the fuck?” All you said was “it’s cool.” Turned around and kept walking.

Philip and his buddy from the video store were walking behind you. He told you later he wanted to make sure you were safe. Staggering up the street, ankles twisting in the high heels. Arm and arm with Abercrombie boy.

Later in the year, in an “open-relationship” period you and Philip met a couple times for drinks. You can remember wet kisses, labored breathing, and you remember his red shirt. Your living room, lacking a TV, but with an abundance of books. You can remember flirting, the drunk flirting, one eye squinting, crooked smile. Sitting on top of your couch, while he was laid out, and falling, slouching, fading into intimacy. He left an hour later, not that you remember.

Your grandfather used to say, “hold onto your diaper” when you were about to drive down a steep hill. This relationship is a “hold onto your diaper” relationship.
to head out to buy more… please continue to just stay buzzed… blast off into the parallel dimension, page 25.

Please continue to page 23.