Congratulations! You can carry on entire conversations in emojis. Go forth and teach others. Are You Fluent in Emoji? - NYTimes.com
For, like Acestes’ shaft of old,
The swift thought kindles as it flies,
And burns to ashes in the skies. Acestes - Everything2.com
The whole place gives me the heebies. Starts with the Wes Anderson monogram-as-sign covertly placed in the upper-right-hand-corner, hoping you don’t even notice. Oh god, it’s you? Fine…come in.
Enter and be judged by a lit-er-al-ly blonde botoxed bitch who rolls her eyes cause you walked over to the wrong couch area duhhhhh. This ain’t a Denny’s, and I ain’t stealing a carafe, girlfriend. And fine, I’ll type my name into the goddamn iPad mini.
Makes the Ace seem downright quaint and friendly.
Seriously it’s a “CANTEEN?” Are you kidding me?
He was wearing white-rimmed glasses. Perhaps mother-of-pearl.
Have you ever met someone who waltzed through life getting everything they wanted because they’re so good looking? I have. It was 1998, and I launched a strange, semi-successful attempt to befriend a very good looking man/boy/man because I thought goddamnit probably no one takes you seriously, but I WILL.
Did white rims know? Did he not know? It was hard to tell. In an attempt not to break the spell, he committed to natty dress. Hanging out at the work collective. With the goddamn CANTEEN. Keep gritting your teeth and being cool and wearing Thom Browne and whatever you do don’t stop walking, just keep walking, everything will be fine if you just keep humming, getting older, older, beauty fades, Thom Browne and CANTEENS last forever.
That’s not even the weirdest thing that happened.
Cibeles VIP lounge, MAD, T1. Future meets the past. An un-renovated New Orleans Riverwalk with 80s Michael Graves velour couches in red, blue, and tan, sitting on top of white tiles, quiet, eerie, jutting out onto the runway. The hum of machines. A rattly custodian cart. Crustless ham and butter sandwiches in a refrigerator for the taking. Silver ice bucket. Coca Light. Men, laptops, quiet desperation.