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Every weekend, I dress up as a version of myself. I douse myself in glitter and do shots of Cuervo and shake my ass up and down a narrow aisle, delivering burgers and escargot to drunk people. I flirt with people whose names I never remember and fight with strangers I hope to never see again.

In the morning, I sit around with friends and drink tall glasses of vodka and bitch about the rest of the world. I fold myself into a cab and thumb through a pile of cash, wondering when it will ever be enough.

For six years, I have been a small player in the big game of late night Manhattan, and today, I realized, that someday, my role will be retired. My contract will not be renewed. And as much as this life that I lead breaks my heart and drives me crazy, I do not wish for the ride to stop too soon. I feel as though I can still squeeze a few more drops of the fantastic elixir and quench my thirst for more.

Someone is parked out in the street below my window. They have their car doors open and Thelonious Monk is pouring out of their speakers in heady throbs. The music will be gone by the time I leave for work. The music always stops. But the melancholy lingers. The longing doesn't end, even when the heart is fooled into satisfaction.

"Things in New York City sparkle a lot longer than you'd expect before they burn out."

link * Miss Marisol posted at 9:49 PM * posted by Miss Marisol @ 9:49 PM   |


. . . and the winner is . . .

Apparently, I am a sucker for a sarcastic wise ass.

The winners of the bacon contest have been contacted. I will share their witty responses post haste.

link * Miss Marisol posted at 2:57 PM * posted by Miss Marisol @ 2:57 PM   |


Delayed Bacon Delivery

I know, I know. I'm supposed to announce the winner of this, today at a minute before midnight.

Regretfully, I won't be posting said announcement until, um, maybe. . .tomorrow. For reasons so unoriginal they are hardly worth writing about yet so pressing I hardly have time to describe, I must apologize for my tardiness in even perusing the entries. I don't even know if I can pluralize that subject, actually.

Though, I would like to initially thank the gentleman in California who offered to fly me out to that other coast since he cannot make it to New York for this Wednesday. If you are not an ax murder, I appreciate the offer. If you are an ax muderer, I am actually an obese 83-year-old Klan member with herpes.

I would also like to thank the darling man who, instead of answering question number two, made me a wonderful mix CD. The aptly titled, "Bacon Bits."

Also, to all the men who told me, "I don't want to fill out an entry, I just want to take you out," I thank you for your honest sweetness and lack of initiative.

Finally, a huge apology to all the people within earshot of me during the last two hours of my 16 hour shift at Florent on Friday night. Too many hours in four inch heels + unlimited access to magnums of Veuve Clicquot = One Loud and Obnoxious Miss Hag.

Sorry. Free bacon for you, too.

link * Miss Marisol posted at 9:03 PM * posted by Miss Marisol @ 9:03 PM   |


Want Bacon?

I'm thinking of calling this off and just giving everyone free bacon. Maybe I didn't think this through. It's silly, anyway. No one likes bacon that much.

Convince me I'm wrong.

link * Miss Marisol posted at 9:54 PM * posted by Miss Marisol @ 9:54 PM   |