(This is from my website: www.hipsterstories.wordpress.com)
Scene: Clemmy goes to Jude’s apartment to give him a massage. He is still floating in his Xanax dream when she arrives. She is wearing a robe to hide the clothes underneath so it will be a surprise.
Clemmy walked in to Jude’s apartment and he greeted her with a languid, sloppy hug.
“Wow, those pills really seem to be working. Now take your shirt off, lay on the coffee table because I’m about to blow your mind,” she said.
From her gingham bag, Clemmy pulled out four patchouli candles, patchouli massage oil and her cassette player. With Jude laying face down on the coffee table she lit the candles, dropped her robe to the ground and pushed “play” on the cassette.
Thelonious Monk live in Paris 1967 filled the air as she dimmed the lights.
She dripped the patchouli massage oil on the middle of Jude’s upper back and whispered into his ear:
“Just relax my sweet Jude. Picture yourself riding your fixed-gear bike alone on the beach as the waves gently splash the shore while I await you with a vegan Kale shake.”
Jude let out a soft moan as he began to sink into the coffee table like it was luxurious Marriott hotel pillow. Continue reading “a hipster massage”
aMediocreMan 