On Monday night I was at a Salsa party watching the people, full of joy, dancing together as men and women should dance and a man nearby was wearing my father's cologne and I felt safe and content.
The other day an old man rode by me on a squeaky bicycle and for a moment I thought the squeaking was coming from him.
Yesterday on the subway a lady wearing a cap sneezed and her hat flew forward and landed on the open page of the magazine she was reading. I tried, unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh but thankfully she was so busy trying to make it look intentional that she didn't notice.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Small Sentences from My Pocket Notebook
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5 comments:
So at the salsa party, how many different types of salsa and nacho chips did they serve? Which salsa was the best? Should I just stick with Doritos Cool Ranch nacho chips?
If only it were that kind of party. Unfortunately the Salsa was of the dancing, not edible, kind.
But you can't go wrong with Doritos' processed goodness.
I'm glad you saw the irony in my post!
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