The Terrible Tale of the Beautiful Barfly

I thought I saw an insanely gorgeous woman at a bar I was passing with my bag of Coldstone Creamery cups-to-go and stopped dead in my tracks, about to let that shit melt in the bag while Papi goes into “work” mode to go have a drink [‘fewknowatimsayin]…

She turned toward me and noticed I was just standing there peering in. She smiled. I knew at that moment that I was in love.

Then whatever was on the flat screen tv in front of her changed shots to something brighter and her face illuminated to reveal what I can only assume is a prosthetic mask she just didn’t bother removing after leaving the set of some horror movie she’s starring in and I ran.

I ran like there was something chasing me. because I was kindov afraid there was. I couldn’t look back. I couldn’t afford to. With every panting step my heart broke at how dead wrong about something a human being, let alone me of all people, could possibly be.

I jumped in my car and immediately locked the doors before shedding a few relief tears as I vowed to myself, to God and to you all reading this here today:

I will get fkking glasses and I will carry them with me at all fkking times.

Today I survived an encounter with Medusa. I will life the rest of my life as the gift I know it to be.