When we woke up,
dirty,
tired,
slightly disoriented,
the sun was starting to really gleam.
Not just shine, but
gleam.
It was wonderful.
There were only the three of us left,
but that was okay. It was me and two
campsite virgins.
Well after last night, they weren't campsite virgins anymore.
All night, Chris was hitting a girl
who liked another guy named Chris.
He was merciless.
While drunk, he tried to impress her:
"You know, I put this tent up myself."
He tried to be generous:
"You want another cheesie?"
He tried to get a cheap thrill
by poking her skinny body in the side
to get her attention. She'd listen patiently
then turn away once he shut up again.
It was more than mildly amusing, but she,
who I had seen before,
must have thought we were the most annoying cluster of loudmouth idiots
ever. But she was cute. Too
skinny
for me, but she was pretty cute. Maybe if I was as drunk as the
Unlucky Chris, I
might have been the one to make an ass out of himself. Who knows?
This morning, I spyed something with my dirty eye.
It was glasses.
They were broken. Snapped right in the middle.
They were hers. I'd seen her with them before.
Purple tinted. I like purple. She must have had them all night.
Didn't wear them, but had them.
Chris said she had lost her lip gloss somewhere in the
wilderness. I wonder if she knew she lost her glasses too.
I wonder if her glasses were like my coat, or my hair, or my boots. I wonder if they were a big part of her.
And there they were,
dirty,
broken,
slightly chewed,
and the sun gleamed off them. Mexicasa, the other survivor of the night tossed them to Chris.
Chris tossed them away and put his hand to his forehead, murmuring "Man..."
I picked up half of them.
I picked up the other half.
I fingered them over in my hands for a while, looked around and tossed them off to the side.
Then, before we left, I took them.
This was supposed to be the last
BIG
night. The BIG raging party. Well, I guess it was. But I still took time out to myself. I still got a chance to think. It had everything, I suppose.
Beer.
Friends.
Fire.
Dirt.
Girls.
So I took the glasses.
It had to be done.
I don't quite know why, but it sure felt right.

So I took them home. I washed pulled them out of my pocket and washed them in the bathroom sink. I washed them before I washed my hands or my face. They didn't seem as dirty as they did in the forest. But now they seemed more chewed. They're more chewed on the left side, maybe she's left handed.
It's kind of fun to think about things like that. Wondering about people you've barely met like that. But thats all I could really guess about from the glasses. Or maybe if she had dental work. Or why would she like Whipped Chris? Who knows. All I know is, I've got this broken pair of glasses sitting on my desk.
They're black with purple lenses.
Thats about it.

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Fuck, I'll rewrite this later... this sucks!!

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