Michelle’s favorite coat was a tint of red. I can get specific about the type of red it was. But, I don't want to. I mean, I'm sure there is an exact name for that red. Like all those goddamn house paints with those silly names you find at Home Depot, or some place as dreadful.
I just know, let's say, I can tell you, non subjectively that it was a hue of red. Or tint of red. What's the difference? I can see that you're already signaling me to “Google” it. But no thanks, I like my world with a bit of mystery. Plus, Google has clocked me watching porn one too many times. iI’s embarrassing and I don’t trust them.
I mean, I get it, all this business about the specific color of a coat, it’s a small detail. But that's what I remember. Maybe that's all I really remember of Michelle. Michelle was a coat to me. A bit harsh, and selfish, and chauvinistic, but, if you're looking for the truth, yeah, that's what sticks out. If you don’t like my feelings for Michelle and her red toned coat, big whoop, sue me Larry H.
We slept around for a bit. Totally causal. She never asked me more then four questions or so. She was a cocktail waitress on the lower east side. Oh, i remember now, it's coming to me. she was pretty cute too. Not a real knockout, but, plenty cute. So, Michelle, cute, reddish coat, minimal talking.
Whatagirl man. Whatagirl.