I am Ashamed. Sort Of.

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The ever urbane Muscato from Cafe Muscato describes an afternoon swanning about Vienna and then asks what the rest of us lesser mortals did lately for amusement.  I bought a suede coat and a pair of giant blue and white porcelain vases; got trapped in a clusterfuck of traffic because of this World Series thing here for an hour and a half and then leaned out of my car window and spat on a limo that was causing a bottleneck on the only escape route out of downtown San Francisco.

Even as I let loose, I wondered who on earth I had become.  I may have launched originally from Texas, but I’ve been a Lady for years now.  Nevertheless, the limo’s passenger’s look of horror was immensely gratifying.

I may have been watching a little too much American Horror Story lately.

12 responses »

  1. Yeah, but I wasn't “unburdening myself” as the Miami writer phrased it so delicately. I was making a point, a gesture, a gesture which translates as “Take that, bitch.”

    Like

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