föstudagur, febrúar 10, 2006

ásamt risum

Drinking at the hotel bar, I'm sipping gin and tonic between the spiky gray guy I came in with and the burly red fellow drinking 7&7 to my right. We've been introduced. I attempt small talk.

Like the horns.


You file them down yourself?

Used to, but now the Company books this girl to do it for me. Kind of like a manicure.

Right, right. A ... cornicure.

Yeah. Yeah! (chuckles, sips his drink) Gotta keep up the expected image.

Yeah, I imagine. Wouldn't do to go all pointy like my friend here, not all of a sudden, anyway.

(Hearing himself mentioned, spiky guy swivels his gray, three-horned head in our direction.)

No, yeah, I couldn't do that. See, that's great. The one on the nose, too.

(Spiky guy blushes a little mauve) Thanks.

Yeah, that's great to see. You can do that kind of thing if you aren't trying to turn pro. And it's just great. (To me) You having more?

Me? (sucking ice) No, thanks, I think I'm done. Gotta get home before too long.

Well, then, so am I. (Sets down glass) Hey, nice talking to you.

You too. Thanks.

I shake his hand. My friend and I head for the subway, talking as we go.

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