Social Sway by Anita Hotty - WordPress.com

Left. Swept. Depth.‘isms’ d’autre espÈceThe domesticated icon created in God’s image… offered a drink ashe sat next to me. I had no time to escape or perhaps even the desire.Regardless, the bar stool warned me with an offensive squishingnoise. The cultivated construct looked at me with only a quick flashof embarrassment and recovered with a forced brainwashed spreadpair of lips. He was Saved - Saved by his crowd jeering score or so hecocked his head at me.A drink? Sure. Why not? I was feeling rather desperate. Bored.With a concealed yawn, I nodded my head. He smiled salesmansuccess, directing the bartender to command to his insecure power.The muscled heave, being it his job, obliged with sloppy pours,rehearsed agreement and ended with clunked glass upon uselesscoaster. “Thanks for the drink,” I dryly accommodated. The religioussymbol extended a ten, cockily adding, “Keep the change.”“You come around here often?” Another night at the Roxberry.Sometimes I wonder why I even bother?“All the time.” My honesty sickened a heaviness within my chest.We spoke about nothing for hours upon hours. His voice suckedenergy from me. I swore I could feel the wrinkles of my face impeldeeper into my skin. Yes, another night at the Roxberry .Whatever happened to the short miniskirts and my long legs glisteningin the sunlight? Whatever happened to the angry parents frustratedby the incessant pesterings of my lovesick fools? They would call myname, “Jeannine…Phone,” with a certain level of jealous annoyance.Then before handing the receiver they would warn me, “Not toolong!” and smile, roughing my hair as I would bark back with love,“Ya. Ya. Ya.” Oh, my – whatever happened to those days? Yesterday’smirror image of my wrinkled sacks haunt me.“Let’s go to my place,” was the unoriginality of my life. Inside I wasmet with irked relief. I prepared myself for another repeat evening.God, I hope he fucks better than he talks.Strangely, he offered me his hand down from the stool. Air erased theindent of my saddened ass. Dismal, I thought. My life is so patheticallydismal. But sex was like a curse that guided my every move. And Ineeded it tonight, perhaps even worse than any other night…MUFF 117