He sat alone in a booth by a window that looked out onto the parking lot, the asphalt only a shade darker than the steely sky. While the waitress went to get his soft drink, he buried his face in both hands and groaned just loud enough to catch my attention at another booth twenty feet away.
He is our company's marketing director, and he had just got back from a tradeshow in Amsterdam the night before. Apparently it only went alright.
I went back to my my poached eggs, stabbing them with flatware the color of November skies still weeks away. I might have sighed.
I wonder what it's like to make decisions.
Hotcha! Hank
Labels: album covers, Bauhaus, Food, mp3, music, Possibly Poetry, Something 4 The Weekend
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