“I don’t know about that. All you English guys are nothing but faggots.” “Not this one, honey.” “Cheap bastard,” huffed the African princess. He sashayed off. A few seconds later, he was working a dude on a few tables away. At that moment, the sun began its descent behind the statue’s robes. “I know I’ve said it before, Woodbridge, but sorry.” “It’s okay, man. It’s okay.” He took another swig of his drink. I did, too. Some days it’s like that. Wherever you turn, you get fooled. And sometimes it doesn’t turn out so badly.
Crack the Spine - Issue 162
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