Thirty years ago today
I
wrote a letter to Tom and got the big envelope ready for sending my submissions
to the magazine that his commune publishes.
I continued to
fight this stuffy, raw and coughy feeling that’d been bugging me lately and I
didn’t feel much like eating or drinking anything besides fruit and juice.
I was going to go
out to Cutty’s that night but I got literally dragged into Louise’s apartment
to drink beer with her, Judy and a bunch of East African guys. It was pretty
boring but somewhat interesting. It’s amazing what attitudes spring up when
people are drinking.
The East African
guys all knew my Kenyan friend Ibrahim. One of them thought he was “fucked”.
Louise got mad at
Judy for mentioning her mother.
No comments:
Post a Comment