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Met Lorraine...sound familiar?


treeduck
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This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

Now, now ladies! :cheerleader: :hi:

 

They’ll continue later after they recharge their phones. Both at 1%.

 

Fully charged!

 

Dynamo.jpg

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This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

Now, now ladies! :cheerleader: :hi:

 

They’ll continue later after they recharge their phones. Both at 1%.

 

Fully charged!

 

http://i.ibb.co/vddVw4c/Dynamo.jpg

 

You’re a real DYNAMO!

 

Keep RUNNING, MAN!

 

 

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I saw her walking from across the street on Avenue C in Alphabet City, she was going in the opposite directions.

 

When we were parallel to one another I yelled, “Hey!”

 

She was the only one who looked my way so I knew she wasn’t from that neighbourhood.

 

She had that freewheelin’ look that reminded me of that actress from the late sixties, early seventies, whose name escapes me.

 

I dart across the street, narrowly being taken out by a yellow cab.

 

I catch up to her and say, “Hey, what’s your name?”

 

See stops and stares right at me and says, “F**k off and die”.

 

I said, “Odd name, but I’m sure we can still be friends “.

 

She says, “Leave me alone or I’ll call s cop”.

 

I said, “I bet you won’t, here we are in the middle of the afternoon and there’s only one reason we’re in this neighbourhood. You’ve either just scored, and wouldn’t risk being busted or your in your way to cop and don’t want your mission disturbed”.

 

“Either way”, I continued, “you’re going to be late back to the office and have to make up some bulls**t reason why”.

 

“Well, aren’t you just the clever little detective, now will you f**k off?”

 

I said, “Ok ok, but I’ll be at CBGBs tonight, why don’t you meet me there after work, I’ll let you buy me drink”.

 

She said, “first of all, we don’t hang there and second, I’m not buying you a drink!”

 

I smiled and said over my shoulder, “315 Bowery”.

 

I looked back just in time to see her flip me off over her shoulder.

 

Later that same day I’m where I said I’d be working on my third Jack and Coke (which I didn’t pay for, thanks ladies) and perhaps a little too high for that early in the evening.

 

Lo and behold, I looked up at just the right time to see her and her friends walking in to the place she said they didn’t hang out at.

 

Fresh from work, business attire, big shoulder pads and sneakers that said not one of them were from the city but rather Queens, Brooklyn, Staten Island or even Jersey.

 

Her friends disappeared to do some blow in the bathroom downstairs (boy were they in for a surprise), leaving the Queen of Avenue C to order drinks for everyone.

 

She scanned the room while waiting for drinks and we caught eyes.

 

She looked away pretending not to have seen me but her red face betrayed her game.

 

I walked over and said, “Are you here to buy me a drink like we talked about?”

 

I guess I caught her off guard because she said, “yes, as a matter of fact I am”.

 

“Jack and Coke”

 

Just then her friends reappeared and one said, “did someone say coke?”

 

The Queen of Avenue C handed me my drink and said, “our turn”.

 

So down to the basement we went.

 

We get to the restroom where they should have been handing out penicillin shots.

 

I said, “we could have done lines upstairs, you know?”

 

We stayed there talking until someone starting pounding on the door.

 

I learned her name was Lorraine and that she was a Jersey Girl just like me,

 

We sat, talked, smoked and occasionally snorted nearly unaware of the chaos around us.

 

All of a sudden she said, “oh no, my friends left!”

 

I said, “don’t worry, I’ll get you home”.

 

So, off we went, leaving the noise, bright lights and smells as the city dropped into the night.

 

1/2 hour later we’re walking around a pathway at a park in New Jersey smoking a joint and drinking a beer.

 

I said I live in a basement on James Street not too far from here, so off we went.

 

We got to my building and we stayed up all night playing records, doing shots, getting high and tripping on mushrooms.

 

She changed out of her business attire and into just my Plasmatics t shirt and her panties.

 

We talked about Woody Woodpecker, James Dean, Clint Eastwood, Jesus and Pee Wee Herman.

 

Morning rolls around and we had some toast and coffee.

 

I volunteered to drive her home and she insisted that I not drive with all of the stuff in my system.

 

So I walk her to the bus stop where we made out until the number 11 arrived..

 

She turned as she was stepping up the stair of the bus as if to say something but neither of us said a word.

 

I start walking back to my building and it dawned on me that we didn’t exchange numbers or last names.

 

To this day, all these years later, every time I’m on the lower east side picking up I keep an eye out for her.

 

And I can’t help but wonder that if after all these years, does she remember me.

Edited by The Cat 3
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I saw her walking from across the street on Avenue C in Alphabet City, she was going in the opposite directions.

 

When we were parallel to one another I yelled, “Hey!”

 

She was the only one who looked my way so I knew she wasn’t from that neighbourhood.

 

She had that freewheelin’ look that reminded me of that actress from the late sixties, early seventies.

 

I dart across the street, narrowly being taken out by a yellow cab.

 

I catch up to her and say, “Hey, what’s your name?”

 

See stares right at me and says, “F**k off and die”.

 

I said, “Odd name, but I’m sure we can still be friends “.

 

She says, “Leave me alone or I’ll call s cop”.

 

I said, “I bet you won’t, here we are in the middle of the afternoon and there’s only one reason we’re in this neighbourhood. You’ve either just scored, and wouldn’t risk being busted or your in your way to cop and don’t want your mission disturbed”.

 

“Either way”, I continued, “you’re going to be late back to the office and have to make up some bulls**t reason why”.

 

“Well, aren’t you just the clever little detective, now will you f**k off?”

 

I said, “Ok ok, but I’ll be at CBGBs tonight, why don’t you meet me there after work, I’ll let you buy me drink”.

 

She said, “first of all, we don’t hang there and second, I’m not buying you a drink!”

 

I smiled and said over my shoulder, “315 Bowery”.

 

I looked back just in time to see her flip me off over her shoulder.

 

Later that same day I’m where I said I’d be working on my third Jack and Coke (which I didn’t pay for, thanks ladies) and perhaps a little too high for that early in the evening.

 

Lo and behold, I looked up at just the right time to see her and her friends walking in to the place she said they didn’t hang out at.

 

Fresh from work, business attire, big shoulder pads and sneakers that said not one of them were from the city but rather Queens, Brooklyn l, Staten Island or even Jersey.

 

Her friends disappeared to do some blow in the bathroom downstairs (boy were they in for a surprise), leaving the Queen of Avenue C to order drinks for everyone.

 

She scanned the room while waiting for drinks and we caught eyes.

 

She looked away pretending not to have seen me but her red face betrayed her game.

 

I walked over and said, “Are you here to buy me a drink like we talked about?”

 

I guess I caught her off guard because she said, “yes, as a matter of fact I am”.

 

“Jack and Coke”

 

Just then her friends reappeared and one said, “did some say coke?”

 

The Queen of Avenue C handed me my drink and said, “our turn”.

 

So down to the basement we went.

 

We get to the restroom where they should have been handing out penicillin shots.

 

I said, “we could have done lines upstairs, you know?”

 

We stayed there talking until someone starting pounding in the door.

 

I learned her name was Lorraine and that she was a Jersey Girl just like me,

 

We sat, talked, smoked and occasionally snorted nearly unaware of the chaos around us.

 

All of a sudden she, “oh no, my friends left!”

 

I said, “don’t worry, I’ll get you home”.

 

So, off we went, leaving the noise, bright lights and smells as the city dropped into the night.

 

1/2 hour later we’re walking around a pathway at a park in New Jersey smoking a joint and drinking a beer.

 

I said I live in a basement on James Street not too far from here, so off we went.

 

We got to my building and we stayed up all night playing records, doing shots, getting high and tripping on mushrooms.

 

She changed out of her business store and into just my Plasmatics t shirt and her panties.

 

We talked about Woody Woodpecker, James Dean, Clint Eastwood, Jesus and Pee Wee Herman.

 

Morning rolls around and we had some toast and coffee.

 

I volunteered to drive her home and she insisted that I not drive with all of the stuff in my system.

 

So I walk her to the bus stop where we made out until the number 11arrived.

 

She turned as she was stepping up the stair of the bus as if to say something but neither of us said a word.

 

I start walking back to my building and it dawned on me that we didn’t exchange numbers or last names.

 

To this day, all these years later, every time I’m on the lower east side picking up I keep an eye out for her.

 

And I can’t help but wonder that if after all these years, does she remember me.

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I saw her walking from across the street on Avenue C in Alphabet City, she was going in the opposite directions.

 

When we were parallel to one another I yelled, “Hey!”

 

She was the only one who looked my way so I knew she wasn’t from that neighbourhood.

 

She had that freewheelin’ look that reminded me of that actress from the late sixties, early seventies.

 

I dart across the street, narrowly being taken out by a yellow cab.

 

I catch up to her and say, “Hey, what’s your name?”

 

See stares right at me and says, “F**k off and die”.

 

I said, “Odd name, but I’m sure we can still be friends “.

 

She says, “Leave me alone or I’ll call s cop”.

 

I said, “I bet you won’t, here we are in the middle of the afternoon and there’s only one reason we’re in this neighbourhood. You’ve either just scored, and wouldn’t risk being busted or your in your way to cop and don’t want your mission disturbed”.

 

“Either way”, I continued, “you’re going to be late back to the office and have to make up some bulls**t reason why”.

 

“Well, aren’t you just the clever little detective, now will you f**k off?”

 

I said, “Ok ok, but I’ll be at CBGBs tonight, why don’t you meet me there after work, I’ll let you buy me drink”.

 

She said, “first of all, we don’t hang there and second, I’m not buying you a drink!”

 

I smiled and said over my shoulder, “315 Bowery”.

 

I looked back just in time to see her flip me off over her shoulder.

 

Later that same day I’m where I said I’d be working on my third Jack and Coke (which I didn’t pay for, thanks ladies) and perhaps a little too high for that early in the evening.

 

Lo and behold, I looked up at just the right time to see her and her friends walking in to the place she said they didn’t hang out at.

 

Fresh from work, business attire, big shoulder pads and sneakers that said not one of them were from the city but rather Queens, Brooklyn l, Staten Island or even Jersey.

 

Her friends disappeared to do some blow in the bathroom downstairs (boy were they in for a surprise), leaving the Queen of Avenue C to order drinks for everyone.

 

She scanned the room while waiting for drinks and we caught eyes.

 

She looked away pretending not to have seen me but her red face betrayed her game.

 

I walked over and said, “Are you here to buy me a drink like we talked about?”

 

I guess I caught her off guard because she said, “yes, as a matter of fact I am”.

 

“Jack and Coke”

 

Just then her friends reappeared and one said, “did some say coke?”

 

The Queen of Avenue C handed me my drink and said, “our turn”.

 

So down to the basement we went.

 

We get to the restroom where they should have been handing out penicillin shots.

 

I said, “we could have done lines upstairs, you know?”

 

We stayed there talking until someone starting pounding in the door.

 

I learned her name was Lorraine and that she was a Jersey Girl just like me,

 

We sat, talked, smoked and occasionally snorted nearly unaware of the chaos around us.

 

All of a sudden she, “oh no, my friends left!”

 

I said, “don’t worry, I’ll get you home”.

 

So, off we went, leaving the noise, bright lights and smells as the city dropped into the night.

 

1/2 hour later we’re walking around a pathway at a park in New Jersey smoking a joint and drinking a beer.

 

I said I live in a basement on James Street not too far from here, so off we went.

 

We got to my building and we stayed up all night playing records, doing shots, getting high and tripping on mushrooms.

 

She changed out of her business store and into just my Plasmatics t shirt and her panties.

 

We talked about Woody Woodpecker, James Dean, Clint Eastwood, Jesus and Pee Wee Herman.

 

Morning rolls around and we had some toast and coffee.

 

I volunteered to drive her home and she insisted that I not drive with all of the stuff in my system.

 

So I walk her to the bus stop where we made out until the number 11arrived.

 

She turned as she was stepping up the stair of the bus as if to say something but neither of us said a word.

 

I start walking back to my building and it dawned on me that we didn’t exchange numbers or last names.

 

To this day, all these years later, every time I’m on the lower east side picking up I keep an eye out for her.

 

And I can’t help but wonder that if after all these years, does she remember me.

 

I'm speechless.

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This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

With one difference: I met Neil.
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.

This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

With one difference: I met Neil.

But you didn't!

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I've tried stalking Lorraine. I've hung out in every town in the area she identified she resides in just hoping to catch a glimpse but alas my heart is broken as it has never happened. I keep looking for the woman in her avatar but to no avail.

"How I spent my summer vacation "

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I've tried stalking Lorraine. I've hung out in every town in the area she identified she resides in just hoping to catch a glimpse but alas my heart is broken as it has never happened. I keep looking for the woman in her avatar but to no avail.

"How I spent my summer vacation "

 

You didn't miss anything. :no: I ran into her once in a Ladies Room. :yes: She was in the stall next to me :unsure: , and then at the wash basin alongside of me. I turned to her to say something, but she has these blue eyes that look right through you, and she froze me on the spot!! :blink:

 

Celebrities! They are all the same. :madra:

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This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

With one difference: I met Neil.

But you didn't!

Except for the time I did. :)
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This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

With one difference: I met Neil.

But you didn't!

Except for the time I did. :)

Didn't happen, end off!

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This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

With one difference: I met Neil.

But you didn't!

Except for the time I did. :)

Didn't happen, end off!

 

I met Geddy, Alex, and John after a bar gig in Toronto back in ‘71. At the time I didn’t even know who they were as I was just at the establishment for the beer and the poutine. And even though I was born in ‘72, I’m positive I met them at that bar in ‘71 because I just know.

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This post is your best so far. It allows the reader freedom to interpret. To me, the period represents how much can simultaneously happen at one moment.

 

It certainly is. And yet it has more substance and credibility than entries about meeting Neil Peart. :P

With one difference: I met Neil.

But you didn't!

Except for the time I did. :)

Didn't happen, end off!

 

I met Geddy, Alex, and John after a bar gig in Toronto back in ‘71. At the time I didn’t even know who they were as I was just at the establishment for the beer and the poutine. And even though I was born in ‘72, I’m positive I met them at that bar in ‘71 because I just know.

And I met all their mothers, and you can guess the rest... :smoke:

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