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8:47am 11.30.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

In the mornings I sometimes catch him as I’m getting ready for work.  The suited man, without the suit still has his endearing moments.

Sometimes.

Sometimes.

Our chatter changes course like a stream of consciousness- from, this morning,  banter about which documentary for him to watch to… bitching about the travesty that is panini.

“They take this delicious bread and they ruin it and call it a sandwich.” Bitch bitch bitch.

“Quick, name three foods you love.  Ready, set, go!” I clap and throw my hand his way.

“Lobster.  Prime rib.  Oysters.”

“Positivity Mr. Humbug!”

“You still like me.” he said with a smile as he drifted into a deeper tangent about food.

I kissed his cheeks and didn’t reply.  He looked up at me and stopped.  He gave me those eyes.  I’m a sucker for those eyes.

Sometimes.

Sometimes.

Sometimes.

“You’re alright I guess.”

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