Rapid fire, meaningless (meaning-full if you’re lucky) conversation with someone after they’ve hit the slopes.
Sitting at the bar halfway through my whiskey sour, I spy an old friend stroll out of the bathroom. He beelines to me, I am a trapped rat, and machine guns a conversation about his terrible day and why he couldn’t seem to get girls to come home with him. In that moment I realized I was in the middle of another of corey’s infamous coke raps.
by koolthing October 05, 2019