Lorn and the Troubadour and those feelings of Grandeur.

     I looked down and I was standing on a Hollywood star. I didn't give two fucks. And not even one, in fact. I didn't care who I was standing on. I was standing impatiently. But then I made sure to stomp on a bunch of them really fast. Pissed-off hopscotch while I was waiting for her to be done. I just wanted her to get her drunken face out of that jeep window. She kept remembering that she was married and then kept not remembering. 
     "Hey, Jeramy," nonchalantly while I poked at him. "We're standing on the stars." He looked down then I think. I also think he said something about it. I pulled her away and led us across the street. Jaywalked across the street to The Frolic Room. I needed a drink and didn't have time for falls-down-a-lot-Ashley. "Goddammit Ashley! Come on! Thanks for the ride guys. We gotta go. Nice ta meetcha."
     The wallpaper inside was hard to look at. Double vision at close proximity. 
     It was dark. It was late. I wanted to stay.