The song that I hate to love and love to hate, and even the song that I love to hate to love. It was Mmm-bop by those little Hanson bastards.Yeah, I don't know if it was the drugs or what but after a few minutes I found myself singing through the lines with those little asexual dip-shits. I couldn't really pronounce words and I was continually drooling all over myself so it must have been quite a spectacle if anyone was watching. I found it interesting to let my vision trail from side to side as I sang along and I couldn't help but imagine that this feeling is why so many people tripped on acid in the 70's. I felt so ... groovy. But once I let my vision trail a little too far and caught the vision of someone sitting against the wall to my right. It startled me a smidgeon."MWUUUUU!" I saw the blurry, nearly-shapeless mass chuckle slightly at my guttural noise that sounded strangely familiar to a dying cow. I heard some tone to her laugh and realized that it must still be that English. But I noticed she kind of grinned, so I slowed down at the next shop and pretended to look in the window. She stopped next to me and for a second I was tongue tied just taking a peek at her toes. Then I turned and smiled and asked her opinion on some shirts in the window. She told me she was a personal shopper and would love to give me some advice. So we went into the shop and pretended to give a shit about clothes. Her name was Katya and she was Polish (still had the accent). Fast forward -but only two days and two lunches later and I'm at her place (a very upscale condo) and she asked me to take a shower while she got ready. I lied in bed and waited anxiously until she appeared from her dressing room in a light green see through teddy. I was almost shaking from excitement. Her skin was wrinkled with age and when I touched her she was so so so soft. I remembered the line from Pulp Fiction about what we're taught is sexy to our eyes isn't always what is sexy to touch. I sat up on the.
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