boys get better things

Last night past midnight, I was still in front of my computer, earphones in, slightly brain-dead, forcing myself to try to write something. Earlier, I had gone for a run-turned-sprint workout. Body sent into a brief paradise after stepping inside the air-conditioned apartment, I had some (by some, I mean much) noms, then I lay across two dining room chairs, eyes closed, music playing. I stayed like that until we had to leave for the outdoor screening of Toy Story 3– it was only slightly humid out, though I was still eaten alive by insects (I must have tasty blood, because this always happens). After everyone had gone to bed, I was still at the dining room table staring at my computer screen, body wanting to enter some kind of tired-coma. It didn’t help my focus to have only one light on, but it seemed to relax my brain a bit.

So, past midnight, still in front of my computer, earphones in, slightly brain-dead, forcing myself to try to write something, a strange train of thoughts occurred:

I need to shower.
Aftershave.
Masculine.
I want to go sniff some men’s deodorant.

The last time I did this was with my sister on the way home from Bar 13 near Union Square. We stopped by CVS because it was too cold to walk home, and she found me wandering the scented aisle. Men’s deodorant smells better I told her. She agreed. And so we found ourselves edging each stick of men’s deodorant under slidy plastic things (why make things so difficult?), opening each cap, and sharing particularly nice-smelling scents. From axe to old spice, we breathed in artificial musk. Then compared it to the flower-bathroom-vomit that was women’s deodorant. Then we reveled in the fact that vegans typically don’t smell, so it doesn’t matter. But boys get better things. Better deodorant, better razors, better pants (with pockets!).

Anyway, I think strange thoughts when it’s too late for my brain.

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