He was wearing a t-shirt that said in thick black letters SECOND PLACE IS THE FIRST LOSER. His face was not your friend. It said without his mouth opening you will never be my friend. When he made eye contact it was aggressive, challenging. Who do you think *you’re* looking at? DeNiro in TAXI DRIVER: “You lookin’ at *me*?” Mr. T-shirt was just sizing you up, that’s all you were good for in the few seconds you crossed his vision. He was getting your number, he was getting the world’s number. If push ever came to shove between the two of you, he wanted to see right away if he could take you. But if you were smart, you’d never let it get that far. You’d back off or better, turn around and walk fast the other way. His girlfriend was all streaked hair, big sunglasses, sprayed on jeans, and a sliver of silver cellphone pressed to her ear. Passing them, I wondered what they talked about in the middle of the night when they weren’t doing the obvious, there was no one around to challenge, and all cellphones were asleep.
5. Mai 2007 10:10 Uhr. Kategorie Stuff. Keine Antwort.
