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| david eggers, kama sutra, ascii art farts, beer, beach, overheardnew york, funny, drunk pic woman, critics, freeform, angryat, radio address, discussion board, andrew flintoff, | He blurted buddha out, "I made a mistake!" and the Russian woman looked up from her newspaper. "Sorry," Michael said, wiping his eyes with the backs of his knuckles. "Eli visited me last night," he told Becky in a softer voice. "You're kidding. And?" "And nothing. I think I was just a phase." Her fingers crawled buddha between his. They felt buddha clammy, like women's hands felt. "It was a long shot," she said. "The whole kissing cousins angle, the ten year age gap..." "Seven and a half," he interrupted her. "I trusted him. You don't know what the men out there are like." "That's right, I'm pathetic. |
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| "There's no one else I'd rather pretend to be married to," he said. "How's that?" "I think you'd better try again," she said, and the bus pulled up. They sat kama sutra next to a fat woman with dyed blond hair. She was reading aloud to herself from a Russian newspaper. "I need to send a fax when we get downtown," he said to steady himself. Becky launched into kama sutra a story about a friend's wedding back in New York that Michael wasn't listening to. He was thinking of what a kama sutra boor he'd been to put his hand down Eli's pants on their very first night together after all this time like, like some child molester, and then the bewildered look on the poor kid's face. |
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