They dance the sexy grind dance. The husband and the friend watch. They grind harder. The husband and the friend look away, their short attention spans grabbed roughly by Alice Cooper's Poison blaring from the satellite radio station.
They dance more of the sexy grind dance. But it's Alice Cooper on the radio and she's happily married and he's not interested. Y'know, like proud Toronto disinterested. By the time Ratt's Slip of the Lip begins pouring from the speakers, they're sitting, begging for the husband and the friend to put on the all-Blondie channel.
They refuse.
Everyone drinks more rum.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment