Me: Not very tall, short hair. I was a little drunk, having fun at the last Hunter College MFA program Open Studios—maybe you’ll remember seeing someone drinking a Colt 45? That’s not a very common beverage selection. I also was perhaps a bit loud when trying to figure out what the hell I was about to take a shot of, because it was clear but smelled like Jaeger. Does this ring a bell so far?
Well, yeah, that was me. I would have stayed longer and checked you out more, but I was distracted and thought I would find better. I'm not usually into your type so I talked myself into just getting out of there. But that was really stupid of me, you were the best I saw all night. There is something so memorable about you and I can't get you out of my mind.
You: Red heels, fishnets, really pale skin. You squirted ketchup and mustard out of your vagina, which I had not expected but brought me great joy. Then I turned around and you put your legs up in the air so I could see your butt, and then you pooped a hand out of it. Intrigued, I stayed to check you out a little more, and you started running around in a weird, empty room wearing only your underwear and a bunny head. Next thing I knew, there were two of you, and then all these colors and static…and you seemed like you did not have your shit together at all, but it was more like you were so calculated that I wanted to hate you, I wanted to deny the effect you had on me. Only after I left you did I realize that I respected and cherished everything you had to offer.
I know this sounds crazy, but I want to get to know you. There's a photo of you above. I wish I could find you so I could take a better look. Please contact me.