big fish eats the little one.

Starts off around seven a.m.
You haul to work after spending an hour getting your hair right and order coffee at Starbucks. You hate the woman in front of your for ordering a feta cheese wrap at 9 A.M.- you hate the barista more for not taking your order while she waits. It's a regular tall pike place. It would've been fast.
Work bores you and you almost fall asleep standing. You drink coffee on the floor just to see how much shit you can get away with for $11 dollars an hour. On the 60 minutes you get to yourself, you read in the sunlight and combine it with Radiohead. It reminds you of sunbathing on the rooftop in Brooklyn. Pleasure. Time passes and suddenly you're being held over late and miss a book release party in Santa Monica.
On your way home, you decide that "Night Flight," playing at Cinefamily might be a good idea. You buy a ticket. Wendy O. Williams does some talking and you remember why you love women in the punk scene. The Tacate is free and you hold 12 oz of pee for over an hour.
After the movie, your companion reminds you that you're both listed for a Matt and Kim show at El Ray. You enjoy your first cab ride in Los Angeles and laugh about how tourists must feel in NY.
At the show, you feel proud of the friends you never really made that are on the stage. In some strange way you've watched them grow (not-so-much musically, but definitely in popularity), and you are happy for them. They are doing what they want to, living their dream and making money doing so. Your tolerance for vodka is too high and the $20 dollars wasted on drinks should've gone to new shoes. Your toes hurt.
The walk home is three miles. You share some story about being called a racist at work that makes your friend rest her a brick walk in laughter. In reflective tones you both speak of stealing commercial property in youthful drunken adventures. Somehow in six years, you've grown enough to look back on the time as though it were decades ago.
After arriving home to a restless dog, you take her out for a spin. She leads the way, and you fantasize about writing yourself to sleep.
It happens. It all happened.