24hour service now. Things used to close at 10.
Meeting you for a McFlurry with our hair done up, and just a splash of lipstick on (never know who you might see) before we head to your house to get ready for the club.
They played 90s music still then. No celebrity DJs. Or if there were, I never paid attention.
The floor was tacky though. My shoulders were cold. G-string trying to strangle me. Reminding me always that “as I am” is not enough. Suck it in. Swallow. Stand up straight. Act like it doesn’t bother you, and never notice the shy smiles thrown your way because you’re too busy seeing the white teeth you’ll never have.
Fucking hell. I need to get out more.
we were there 