Without realizing it, we were that couple, holed up on a couch at a bar with our hands all over eachother, kissing on the subway platform, hands interlocked on the street. So I put my scotch down and smiled at the guy across from us. “I’m sorry, we didn’t realize we were that couple.” He looked bewildered. We laughed a little. “The thing is, we ordered a single malt, and the bartender has a heavy pour.” He nodded. “What I mean is, we didn’t mean to be that couple. You know.” He smiled politely and strained his head to look for his grumpy-looking girlfriend to come back. We sighed and went back to being that couple. We didn’t mean to be, but so what.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth