Last Posh Glare

Jeffrey Shell, Thursday, 3 Jun 2004

Sometime Summer 1999, Downtown

She leaned against the bar and filled her eyes with dagger surprises. She tried to keep her last posh glare on her face instead of drunken (early drunken) soft eyed tiredness.

Strange idols (Thurston Moore, Jim O'Rourke) graced the stage. One act reminded us of Blank Capsules of Embroidered Cellophane. We were spiky haired weasels cresting on noises so few understood. As the music and alcohol exploded upon us, she wanted to cry.

By 2:30 am we were out of cigarettes and strength to continue. Again to the streets!

Downtown was always a wonder at any hour. We walked anonymous-ghost-like along Houston, past bars and cafes still roaring; 202 Bowery at 3AM; long waits for subways; thumb wars for luxury hotel shower privileges.

Those were days.

This is Last Posh Glare, © Thursday, 3 Jun 2004. It is part of Perfect and Unbelievable Hearsay, which is part of euc.cx/ddec.

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