Party Animal

Two beers, a pack of cigarettes and I find myself reading Ernest Hemingway. I'm not really paying attention to the book. In all actuality I'm thinking about a girl. Shocking right?

Ernest Hemingway is so sexy.

This girl is kind of cute. Not super cute though, but cute enough to catch my attention. She was the cutest girl at the party. That party was kind of male heavy though.

It's not hard to be the cute girl at guy's night.

I guess there were other girls there, but she was the cutest one around. I don't really care though. Why should I care? She's just the girl at the party.

Anyways, I'm newly single. The girl I was dating was pretty amazing. Cuter then the girl at the party. Less whimsical then the girl at the party though. I like my girls to be whimsical. My ex was very pretty. Very beautiful. Tonight's girl has nothing on the ex.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.

Wow! Where'd the last three pages go?

If it were not for the fact that the ex left for school and didn't want to try and make it work I wouldn't even have to worry about the girl at the party. Of course, tonight's girl is cute. And whimsical. That's a good mix. I think I'll ask her out to dinner or coffee or something. We could rent a movie and get Chinese food.

I did that once. I rented a romantic drama with the latest teen heart throb and got some Chinese food. It didn't really work though. "Bailey, you're everything I want in a guy, but I'm just not attracted to you."

The girl I first got the movie and Chinese food with doesn't know this girl from the party. I can recycle. Yea, I think that's what I'll do. Chinese food and a movie.

I should really pay attention to the book instead of just turning the pages.

I wish I had some cigarettes. I hate getting all fidgety. I hate when my head hurts because it's been three hours since my last smoke. Of course, I'm not addicted. Maybe I am addicted.
How romantic would that it be to smoke and read Hemingway? Not romantic like roses and candies and Chinese food and teen heart throbs. Romantic like classical music or 1940's film noir or something.
I think it would be romantic.

Hemingway and cigarettes. Cigarettes and Hemingway.

What a night. The party was cool I guess. It would have been better if she hadn't come.
It's been like ten pages and I have no idea what's going on.

There is no way I'm asking her out. She disrupts me reading.

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All of this is fiction about a character named Bailey Thomson.