In his black wool winter coat, pressed button up, and khaki slacks, Quinto emerged out of the buzzing crowd, took the cigarette out of his mouth, looked me in the eye and with a surprising amount of sober sincerity considering the night's activities said to me, "I just want to go on record as saying that this is a bad idea. That's all." Waved himself off before replacing the cigarette between his lips and disappearing once more into the crowd.
Ever since then, before I make any obvious drunk and stupid decision, I hear Quinto's voice of reason, admit that he was as right as he would be now, and gracefully exit-stage-left the situation.
And then last night happened....and no amount of reason nor foresight could deter my determination....crap.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.