The ferry is crossing the water between Staten Island and Manhattan slowly making the trip back and forth.
The air is crisp and clean. Refreshing, like the feeling you get when washing your face in cold water from the faucet after an afternoon of playing in the summer sun. The air is very distinct and is bringing me back to a time when I road this ferry to and from work all summer long. Having the occasional beer on the outside deck promenade staring at all of the beautiful big sky that we are gracious to get with a city full of buildings and trees. Flash bulbs, flash bright white lights as we pass another ferry, it’s stomach full with the select few night crawlers heading to Manhattan for a night on the town and with the remaining tourists completing their round trip on the only free attraction in NYC.
The mixed smell of coffee grounds, diesel fuel, wet dog and rotting rubber is permeating the air as we pass the old domino sugar plant, marking the ¾ mark of our trip across the water. I dream of making a living serving coffee and tea to those individuals who dream every day of their wildest and fondest memories and also of their most impossible life situations. Some are dreaming of romance and love making followed by naked cooking in kitchens with bare ass men serving fried eggs and home fries while their twig and berries stand limp. Others are dreaming of kayaking in the everglades of the country living at campsites, following on their own versions of the Lewis & Clark expeditions.
I will make an attempt to stop in Bayridge tonight to pick up a local real estate brochure detailing condo deals and executive suites which to run my internet order coffee house dream fulfillment company out of.
The lady infront of me is sitting there, staring at me, making eye contact but failing to recognize that I am here. She is flirting to boost her own ego, not her libido, not her happiness. Just truly trying to flatter herself with her own good intentions of making herself feel good by positive response from well oiled sex filled prime age males. If I fail to give her the attention she is craving, she will begin to view the boat for other potential sperm donors.
This boat would make a great Freudian experiment into the sexual and psychological nature of human beings. Give me attention, Give me attention; all of these women scream by shaking their feet and moving their body to the sounds of the ipods permanently attached to their ears.
It’s time to close the laptop and to get in my car and see if the sweet smell of summer air will follow me on my drive home.
The air is crisp and clean. Refreshing, like the feeling you get when washing your face in cold water from the faucet after an afternoon of playing in the summer sun. The air is very distinct and is bringing me back to a time when I road this ferry to and from work all summer long. Having the occasional beer on the outside deck promenade staring at all of the beautiful big sky that we are gracious to get with a city full of buildings and trees. Flash bulbs, flash bright white lights as we pass another ferry, it’s stomach full with the select few night crawlers heading to Manhattan for a night on the town and with the remaining tourists completing their round trip on the only free attraction in NYC.
The mixed smell of coffee grounds, diesel fuel, wet dog and rotting rubber is permeating the air as we pass the old domino sugar plant, marking the ¾ mark of our trip across the water. I dream of making a living serving coffee and tea to those individuals who dream every day of their wildest and fondest memories and also of their most impossible life situations. Some are dreaming of romance and love making followed by naked cooking in kitchens with bare ass men serving fried eggs and home fries while their twig and berries stand limp. Others are dreaming of kayaking in the everglades of the country living at campsites, following on their own versions of the Lewis & Clark expeditions.
I will make an attempt to stop in Bayridge tonight to pick up a local real estate brochure detailing condo deals and executive suites which to run my internet order coffee house dream fulfillment company out of.
The lady infront of me is sitting there, staring at me, making eye contact but failing to recognize that I am here. She is flirting to boost her own ego, not her libido, not her happiness. Just truly trying to flatter herself with her own good intentions of making herself feel good by positive response from well oiled sex filled prime age males. If I fail to give her the attention she is craving, she will begin to view the boat for other potential sperm donors.
This boat would make a great Freudian experiment into the sexual and psychological nature of human beings. Give me attention, Give me attention; all of these women scream by shaking their feet and moving their body to the sounds of the ipods permanently attached to their ears.
It’s time to close the laptop and to get in my car and see if the sweet smell of summer air will follow me on my drive home.
posted by Christopher at 5/21/2007 07:00:00 PM
