Untitled, or Where The Wild Things Were

Just for old times' sake, mind you, I'm not in the market for this sort of thing.

Anymore.

Old men, eyes hidden behind shades glance quickly up and down, spot the locally made clothes, but most importantly the backpack, not right, not their clientele, puffing quickly, disapprovingly on their smokes and it's back to the conversation but see that one? They do, cigarettes fall and are quickly crushed under cheap double monks, backs straighten, the guy, the guy with the tastelessly expensive suit, the big guy walks past without a sideways glance but the spot-check from corporate has just taken place or did you honestly think that all those little bars up on the third fourth seventh ninth floors, the “health massages” and soaplands, the girls who call out in Korean and Tag, or Japanese with the soft mushy consonants from the continent over the sea, were owned by, were in competition with each other? Oh no, they may come from across the sea, you know the one, the one whose name we can never agree on, but the one thing that everyone knows is true is that the people over there, he points towards the sun, is it rising or setting, Mr. Franklin? I don't know, my boy, but take my word on two things: First, all cats are gray at night, and second, those girls from over there where the sun sits low on the horizon? They aren't like the local girls, they've got more freedom, they'll do things that the good and proper young ladies from our homeland would never consider, not even for, well, let me work out the exchange rate. Licentious little bits of scrumptiousness, the accents and hues change, but the Beast is always the same, this I know. Know? you say, how do you know this, what kind of person are you, are you one of them, are you some sort of monster but did I ever tell you otherwise? Did I ever say I was a nice person, or did you make that decision on your own? Did you see me looking, did you notice and judge whether it was a casual interest or not, and how casual, or did you catch a gleam of intent, was it just a memory, or are you projecting? Again?

Just stay outta the big guy's way, and let's go have a beer, this place ain't for us, not on our pay-scale at least.