Perception

Friday, November 09, 2007

Perception

Yesterday I was listening to Blisters, Mario’s first band. They wrote out of tune compositions in bad English. I can’t imagine why someone will ever listen to that, except for their close friends, but they had a fan base in other cities. People even chant the grammatically incorrect lyrics. Good times.

Cynthia hates the band, like all the girls of our crew. She was a green-eyed beautiful blond, presumptuous and frivolous. Mario dated her at those times. After two months, anybody can’t stand her whining chat. I pretended to listen because I surmised an easy fuck. Mario seems a little upset, but never said a word. After two excruciating months listening to her committing all kinds of blunders, like I did, he broke up with her in the middle of a Blisters’ set, just before they started to play a Mineral song. Ironically, nowadays probably someone will know the fuckin’ song. I lost Cynthia in the middle of the crowd. When I went to the club’s bathroom, a playboy was fucking her on a cabin. So I came back to the middle of the crowd and started to sing an Afghan Wigs tune alone. Total nonsense. A Chan Marshall look-alike seemed to understand and approached me. I forgot her name, but I’m always grateful to her because she opened my eyes to cool chicks, which are, usually, prettier than plastic blondes. I never cared about Barbie bitches anymore, until the day I met my future wife. What a mistake.