Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Such Great Washington Heights: scene 65

Such Great Washington Heights
Scene 65
We pull up to River Oaks Cleaners on Washington in a car full of fine linens & silk, like a modern day Marco Polo returning to the canals of Venice with fragrant curries and small brown slaves.
We heard Cova went out of business and recall on thoughts of what dildos the barstaff were the one time we overpaid for a small piece of Alexander Valley there. We make a silent wish that they are all struggling for rent money on this day and the next.
There is a budding line to the counter of ROC. A man in scrubs, our age, is sifting through most of his wardrobe with the accommodating Hispanic woman counting collars as he shuffles his Bugatchi shine from one edge of the Formica to the other. Separating him and us is a blond woman donning a pair of face swallowing sunglasses and badly wrinkled clothing of her own.

Woman leans back, quietly asks: Who dry cleans jeans?
Us back to the woman loud enough for all to hear: Probably someone who wears powder blue scrubs on their day off.
Woman, mockingly: Right
The scrubbed man, still rifling through his garb, turns to look at us with a sort of angered embarrassment. He turns back towards Hispanola and states his name and phone number.

Scrubs: Last name, ..., first name, Rayden.

Us to the room: We loved your work in Mortal Kombat.

And scene.

If you are interested in purchasing the entire Such Great Washington Heights manuscript, please contact our agent: Kurt Stingpenis at what!motherfuckers@stingpenisinc.com.

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