coupons


you brainless idiot, you said. you can't cross the street without falling in love. rightly so. but now it's like this:

a gorgeous-looking widow next in line in her early 40s gave me her discount coupons at the supermarket today. true, I could not help but size her up (but I do not pride myself of it): short and sexily plump, stylishly-trimmed black hair, off-beat black gipsy clothes, a sort of deeply sad serious well-to-do NY-type left-wing latina intellectual. breath-takingly sexy. then, bursting through our common gloom, she offered me the cutest of smiles and 18 euros' worth of coupons. off-beat widower, meet off-beat widow. but why on earth do I think I have to fill the giant hole that you left? I don't. it's part of me now. I returned as dark a smile as I could muster, and never looked back.

wrong key.


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