He is tan and boyishly handsome and dresses with an authenticity that A&F would kill for.
He smells of cigarettes and the faintest hint of cologne.
He wear sandals in the snow.
And I took a moment out to flirt with him in my own clumsy way, to no avail.
An idiosyncratic and non sequitorial examination of the contents of one head.
Monday, October 11, 2004
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