piecing it together

the drugstore at 10 p.m. can be a strange and wonderful place after you’ve assaulted your stomach with beer and blue cheese dip: the bright lights, the strange characters who seem to dance and dart among the aisles, the ’80s rock soundtrack, the impulse to try citrus-flavored dental floss and Junior Mints-no, rather-cinnamon Altoids gum, a woman asking me who did my hair, the strange man outside asking me on a date for Sunday and when I said I was busy, he asked me if I said so because of his color and I said “God no.”

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