A tale of two sisters.

It’s a short tale.  Not even a tale, really.

I knew two girls from high school who were sisters.

The older one was my age.  Capital-H Hot, but nowhere in my sphere of friends and acquaintances.  Wouldn’t have given me the time of day then.  I saw her at a bar one night, the same night I’d won a karaoke contest, and feeling pretty good and a hundred bucks richer.   So I asked out, and her response was the nice “eye roll and leave” move.  I didn’t even rate a scathing remark.

The younger one claimed to have yelled “trenchcoat mafia” at me from a car once, which I don’t remember (and since I didn’t own a trenchcoat, I’m still not sure it was me).  Just as pretty as her sister, but always very kind to me; I didn’t really know her in school at all.  She did break up with my friend because he was shorter than her, but she’s unusually tall… and she felt so bad about it that she always comped us tickets to the theater if she was working.  All of us.

Like I said, it’s not much of a tale.  Just an observation I think about sometimes.  I’ve spent a lot of time wondering why one sister was so rude and one was the opposite, or if I somehow made an impression on one that I have no recollection of.



About ducksarebitches

I'm a painter, a drummer, a student, and currently unemployed. I also appreciate cats and a bit of light debauchery, but not at the same time or for the same reasons.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s