"I remember," he drooled "mushroom caps." Frankly he didn't give a damn. But Daft really, really wanted to stay married this time, if not for the rest of his life. And at this moment, he would have settled for the rest of the night.
Daft had been anxiously driving around town and at midnight he promised himself a quick stop. He had to eat. He had never listened to Gloria's advice before, but for some reason he was now taking her advice, when no one would know, and while it would no longer matter if he told her.
Gas station bananas. The staple of a very lost bachelor. On previous occasions he had argued with Gloria about the deliciousness of a brown gas station banana. He'd pontificate on the sacred sweetness of the potassium-enriched fruit.
Stuffing the banana's innards into his stubbled and gaunt cheeks, he grabbed another and gestured the strokes of a rigorous masterbatory session out the window of his Turbo-Saab convertible. A few onlookers stared blankly at his obvious grab for attention, then turned away in pity and disgust.
Leaving the gas station, Daft got a stroke of inspiration. He turned his car onto the main road and drove in a familiar direction.
Pulling up to his secret box-shaped building, he caught a glimpse of his latest "ex-venture." The only factor making this "venture" tangible being her recent employment at Just A Handful—his favorite titty bar. Daft had not once dated a woman in the city, but he would frequently find girls and follow them around town. It made him feel powerful to witness their intimate moments in secret. He had first found Lurline considering her darkened reflection from the reverse side of a window. Daft totally unseen. Lurline vulnerably exposed. Framed in a window that was painted with faded red pigment sun-dyed to pink, he thought she looked beautiful and tragic.
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