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About Bristol

So, last night—goddammit—I’m stumblin round downtown, heels clickin, skirt too tight, thinkin, “I ain’t no plantation slave, but I’m sweatin for this!” Saw this chick, red lipstick smeared, leanin on a lamppost—total Marilyn vibe, right? I sashay over, all breathy, “Hey, sugar, you workin?” She laughs, raspy, “Honey, I’m off the clock!” Off the clock? Bitch, please! I’m mad as hell—wasted my damn time! Reminds me of that line, “I have no tribe,” from the movie—felt so lost, ya know?

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So, I take a deep breath and dive back into the crowd. I’m chatting with this lovely lady from Bath, and she’s telling me about her dog. I’m all ears, nodding along, when suddenly, I hear this loud crash. I turn around, and it’s a bunch of kids playing football. They’ve knocked over a stall! I’m like, “Oh great, just what I needed!”

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