barfly
She tells me she is secretly a princess from a magical kingdom who gave up her magical existence to work in a mid-level administrative job in a city full of squat gray buildings and faulty train lines She tells me I’m special and she’s never fallen in love with a girl before, but that is how she feels about me, ba-ba-bingo That’s how she puts it: ba-ba-bingo She is really irritating me and the bar is filling up with people who keep jostling and hitting my hip and buttocks I am starting to think this was a bad idea Her hair is cropped close to her skull and in this light I could almost believe she’s not quite human, not quite of this world She has these wide-apart, gleaming eyes and a whore’s succulent mouth and a fine profile Her hair is the colour of straw I smile back at her and say I’m flattered but that I don’t date girls It’s true Currently I’m in love with a short American He’s a petite, beautiful man, if you can even describe men as petite He has small hands and you know what they say about small hands and feet… his name is Hans and we met on the Internet, on a fly-fishing forum (no euphemism) because we have both been passionate about fly-fishing from the bright, lazy days of childhood and parental bonding Even that is too much information to give to this woman, this intergalactic princess In order to get to this world, I had to cross three portals, she tells me, one green-nailed hand curled around the stem of her martini glass And for each portal I had to give up something that I loved My mother’s sceptre The shard of ancient glass that had been lodged in my right eye since birth (that one hurt) My mp3 player which I’d been using to listen to music to about fifty million years before the invention arrived on your planet Oh, I’ve known sacrifice, I say Sacrifice is giving up what is important to you Yes! She says Sacrifice is putting yourself on the line Yes! She says Her hand reaches for my arm
