Tuesday, August 18, 2009

august 18th, 2009


some nights I just want to be a stranger 

I’m sorry I’m smoking.  I’m sorry I’m smoking.  I’m from Australia and we all smoke in Australia.  Where are you from?  I’m sorry I’m smoking said a short, red-faced drunk woman inside the gas station convenience store.  The man she was questioning ignored her every word as I paid for my toilet paper and collected my change.  I can’t go to the gas station across the street because I know and like the cashier.  I can’t go to the Rite-Aid down the block because the bus stop I pass is black and depressing.  Some nights I just want to be a stranger.  Some nights I just want to avoid loud, drunk Australian women.    


1 comment:

  1. "I can’t go to the gas station across the street because I know and like the cashier. I can’t go to the Rite-Aid down the block because the bus stop I pass is black and depressing. Some nights I just want to be a stranger."

    These lines work for both the australian woman and the narrator.

    My first read, I took it to be the Australian woman explaining why she was smoking in *that* convenience store.

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