
Drawing Blood
The warmth was familiar.
Deployment of stories — easily imitated.
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The warmth was familiar.

Ben accidentally let go of the coffee mug during a playful game of tug of war on the dance floor, and it smashed my right central incisor into pieces.

In mid-2008, I met a Latina woman, a Chola, pursuing nursing school at a house party.

Saturday, March 29th, Thousand Oaks, CA.

Marcus was hiding behind the stacks of Cuties in the orange mesh bags.

I’m from Crawford County, IL — rural, oil, and agricultural.

I was working at a high-end restaurant in Bel Air as an assistant general manager.

"Cash is best, but Venmo is second best. It makes my wife smile."

When the opening riff of "I Drink Alone" began, she started grinding her butt into my crotch — one hand holding a beer, the other fist pumping to the kick drum.

When the person on the other end answered, I burped, “A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L.” A different letter with each burp.