Archive | August, 2014

My Urban Cowboy – W4M

25 Aug

YOU:  An aging gentleman in leather chaps, a beaded leather cowboy hat, and a string of white seashells dangling from your jowls.  Your shirt was unbuttoned to reveal just enough of the dark, cavernous world of your innie belly button to leave me wanting more.  Your salt and peppery mustache enveloped the nozzle of your bottle of Diet Sprite and your wide stance betrayed the secret that you had recently dismounted your steed only to board the Brooklyn-bound L train.

ME:  Younger white girl in a Rosie O’Donnell-esque tunic and a questionable boot, who was breaking a considerable sweat carrying a humongous mural of the Grand Canyon.  As I maneuvered onto the train, our eyes met– the only part of me you ever saw since the Grand Canyon was covering the rest of my body as well as the bodies of the two disgruntled strangers seated to my right.

US:  The electricity that vibrated throughout that fateful caboose cannot be denied and I shall not sleep until we share our tales of the dusty trails over a bottle of sarsaparilla.  Godspeed, elusive cowpoke. I’ll be waiting.