And this bleach blonde tramp who happens to be a brunette is chain smoking like the pro she is, blowing smoke rings while I watch the rain pounding the slanted glass roof above our perfectly coiffed hair, everything vaguely translucent, sliding down the surface of things.
“Be my valentine?”
“Oh honey. We haven’t a fucking heart between us”
“I’d like to kiss you, but I just washed my hair”