i ate quickly and we talked about lighter topics.

she told me that she'd met some guy at the Pony Da Look show at Wavelength a few weeks ago and that he'd called her this afternoon. he was supposed to meet her at 10.

"here?"

"yeah. and he's bringing a friend." i looked at my watch. 9:50.

"why didn't you tell me? i look like hell, Sandy."

"no you don't. you look like you always look."

"thanks."

i totally wasn't into meeting anyone--especially a friend of some guy that had hit on Sandy at a Sneaky Disease show.

"i'm probably gonna go home early."

"oh come on, M. what the fuck am i supposed to tell his friend?"

"i don't know. you shouldn't have invited him."

"i should have just left you alone at home, feeling miserable and sorry for yourself?"

"yes!"

"you know me. i would never do that. don't tell me that you didn't think i had guys coming to meet us."

she had me there. it had crossed my mind. she knew that she'd won.

"so just have a couple drinks and if you don't like him, split."

i sighed. apparently, it was just heavy enough.

"have ONE drink."

"fine. but then i'm splitting. for sure."

"that's cool. at least i can say i tried."

we ate in silence. the next ten minutes seem to take forever to pass.

the boys weren't there yet so i went downstairs to have a look in the mirror.

i didn't look as bad as i thought i did but it was a far cry from presentable to possible suitors.

as i put on some lipstick, something in the mirror caught my eye. i spun around to see that someone had graffiti'd victoryshag.com on the wall with a ballpoint. i wet some paper towel and scrubbed at it. as usual at Squirley's, the fucking liquid soap was empty so the task was useless.

i covered it with lipstick and mascara and headed back upstairs.

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