The train ride seems epic. The last stop. It's a good time to finish a book. We arrived in Coney Island as the day was closing into night. Scads of families were flooding the station, after a long day at the beach, it was time for them to head home. The wet sea air was wonderfully nostalgic. 
When heading home, I engaged in a game of soccer with three Russian teenagers. Vadim confirmed, "The best part of the night was when you started playing soccer with those kids."
"I remember that part of the night."
"Then you grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him."
"I don't remember that."
----
Later I admit, "How did we get home?"
"Q train to Atlantic. Then we took a cab. You sat on this guy's lap by accident. Then you called me a liar and an asshole when I told you that the train was coming. This large Puerto Rican family was watching us"
At least we were both laughing.
That French vodka w- the Polar Bears wrestling on the label. Who knew.
No comments:
Post a Comment