I'm sad. I have to wake up now.
I drive a 2000 Ford Mustang. Convertible. White exterior, tan interior. 3.8 liter, 6 cylinder. Automatic. With the sports package.
It's basically a sports car with training wheels. GTs and Cobras with manual transmissions laugh in my face.
"What is it about women?" I asked as I peered down into my empty beer mug. "What is it that they do that makes us do such stupid things?"
"I don't think it's so much what they're doing, as much as what we're thinking," my friend answered, with a sway of his head.
"I sure can't say it was a feel-good movie," she said. "I really wanted to promote this to all of my friends. But now, after seeing it, I'm not so sure…"
The rest of us agreed. Our first impression of Better Luck Tomorrow was mixed; it didn't leave us with a satisfactory feeling.
"It was the way he sipped his coffee," she told me with a stern glare. "I could just tell, you know? I just knew."
"Yea," I nodded, taking a concentrated, quiet, easy sip of my coffee.
"He slurped it like a pig. His tongue was sticking out." Her eyes wandered out the window. "I don't know. He was a nice guy. But I just knew it wasn't going to work out."
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA