i never really liked
until i found out
what it tastes like
when you sigh it
She lit my cigarette then promptly handed me a bag of wine, looked me in the eyes and slurred solemnly “I know you can do it.” I drained the bag, and she clapped and put her arms around me, her face so close to mine that it would have been rude not to kiss her. So i did.
A second later she starts kissing down my neck, a hand up my shirt.
“I’m on rumspringa!” she announces.
“Rum…rumspringer? Huh?” I asked. “What is that?”
She bit me. “RUMSPRINGA RUMSPRINGA RUMSPRINGA! I’m Amish and I have a month to decide if I want to go back and marry my boyfriend or stay here! I KNOW!!!!!!” She laughs and starts maniacally jumping up and down at the expression on my face.
We lost each other a few minutes later, as easily distracted drunk people tend to do. I guess I’ll never know what she ends up choosing. Fucking pennsylvania, man.