Featured Post

Anxious gatekeeping

Analogous to nervous cluelessness is something we might call “anxious gatekeeping.”   This is desire to police the borders of poetry, or of...

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Conga & Not my Girlfriend's Breasts

I was playing conga with a band. I also had a some hi-hats and I clicked them together with my left hand on 2 and 4. The conductor showed me why that was a cool beat. But when we actually had to play the song was a country one with lame rhythm. The conga was smaller than in real life and I didn't know what to play so I sat out. There was another drummer to my right who had started playing another instrument instead, and a third drummer somewhere on the other side of the bandstand, who I thought might carry the beat. When I did start to play some notes I supposed that they would be inaudible.


I woke up next to a woman that I had admired in high school. I looked into the mirror at my pecs, and realized, from the disparity of size, that I was really looking at the reflection of her breasts. It was strangely asexual situation (we hadn't had sex nor were going to), and I apologized to her for looking, or else pointed out that they were on view. She referred to herself as a former girlfriend but I corrected her, because she had not been my girlfriend.

No comments: