Super Sketch

All night she ran back and forth between two parties, dis-and-re-appearing like two parts of some Zack Morris plot. One moment she’d be with us sipping coke-and-something, the next she’d be at the punk show down the street.

We stood under the projections of some guy we met once on a mountain, watched paper art slide by above on a conveyor belt. The music hit and miss, we cranked our heads through shadows to see if it was a DJ or live electrics beats.

From the balcony I heard my name, saw my secret was out. I’d used the ladies washroom, no bother to the other pissers, gave them a giggle. Talked to strangers about hometowns and oral sex skills, ordered drinks from a girl in blue polka dots.

Took the longest cab ride to the suburbs and fell asleep with friends.