Boulevard of Broken Dreams II

Like Truman Capote’s Mr. Revercomb in short story “Master Misery,” I will buy your dreams. This just in…

“I came over to your apartment (which was hideous, by the way) and you weren’t home so I sat around waiting for you with a plate of hors d’oeuvres that involved salami. When you guys arrived you had an Asian couple with you and they were carrying martinis and they looked like they felt bad for me. Tyler ate some of the salami off the top of the snacks I’d brought and then you went into a corner and threw up. I went into your kitchen to get you some ginger ale but instead I made a quiche. Then I remembered the ginger ale and you didn’t have enough so I topped it off with water and then when I turned back to the quiche, it had turned to liquid again so I poured it out your kitchen window. When I returned to your living room with the watered down ginger ale, you and Tyler had built a karaoke stage and were singing “Tomorrow Belongs to Me” while the Asian couple sat on the floor, watching.”

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