Happy Hour

by Marlowe Granados

It takes practice to have restraint, and we are not yet at an age to try it out.

dipsomaniac.

In my defense, I had trouble distinguishing between brooding and insipid.

Seeing someone you used to love is like visiting a house you once lived in. Everything about them is familiar yet strange.

They would politely list their own accomplishments then cross the room to talk to someone they already knew was doing something of great importance.

One must always leave ample time to get ready, so there is a slow, incremental rise in joy.

There is only one rule when we get dressed: if it makes you feel good and there’s a pinch of fear that while in public someone may throw a comment your way or think it’s too much, wear it. You never know if someone else may be emboldened to do the same! If you’re going to put something on your body, why not make it look good? People think clothing is frivolous, but it can really instill courage, and that’s a good thing.

it was the girls and gays who invented parties.

I am more comfortable being a Fixture than a Possibility,

As much as this summer is about branching out into a semblance of adulthood, it is also about fun. I take both seriously.

“What is your history? Where are you from? Your parents, I mean.” Sage looked at me shyly. Having heard that line before, I turned my shoulder at him and lowered my eyes in a move my mother would have called “coquettish.” I said, “Are you asking why I’m so pretty? If you are, just ask me that.” Did you know it is possible to push back without anyone even noticing?

Often, people who are tired of themselves are inexhaustibly curious.

“Sage, you’re so handsome and generous. Why don’t you buy me presents and I’ll take you for granted. That’s what you really need.”

I told him a regret is just doing something bad when you know better, and he should be proud that he takes the long way, because that is how you achieve emotional intelligence.

I am concerned we are slowly falling in with the wrong crowd. It is not that I don’t find artists and actors interesting; it’s that they seem eager to become popular.

It was my favourite time of evening, when the sun starts to set and the lights come on in the streets and it’s all blue and yellow. It’s the time when people come home and turn on a lamp, and no one thinks to draw their curtains just yet. Civil dusk,

It is the presence of an absence. A great, great woman.”

Being a young girl is always a cute trick. It leaves nothing to be desired and it is easy. I feel as though becoming a woman is like a long tradition of going through things and coming out strong, but I am tired and weary!

Mathilde didn’t get out of the cab till the tall man handed the driver a twenty-dollar bill. Gala smirked at me. She admired the elegant way Mathilde had commanded action from the man without a word.

He said that whenever I started a story, I myself did not seem to know where it would end up. Gala almost choked on an ice cube when he said that.

There must be two types of writers in the world, those who try to hide what they’re working on and the ones begging for someone to ask them about it.

I am comfortable saying I don’t do anything because that way people are always surprised by me.

sojourn

Atrio. It was hidden away in the old part of a small city called Cáceres.

The only residue of it remains purely societal, if you know what I mean.

New York has the worst ecology for any kind of relationship. How is it possible to sustain anything when there’s always someone else on the horizon?

A bar is only made relevant by the people who sit outside it.

“Newly minted men are always looking to be punished.”

“quixotic”

Some people think that in order to make an impression on a pretty girl, one has to be mean to her. People think girls who have certain magnetism have never known Real Struggle, so they take it upon themselves to give a little bruising and a hard time.

In no way am I going to be shocked by someone’s ideas about me. Gala always says, “Never give a sucker an even break” because you can only blame yourself if you do!

I could tell Tuzy loved to lavish someone from the outset, testing their reaction to his “strong feelings.” If you’ve been starved for kindness and attention for so long, it’s an easy salve. A high-calorie dessert. After a couple of weeks, he’ll start to withdraw and then disappear almost entirely. You’re left wondering whether anything was true at all, if he meant it. With the quickness of his disappearance, you ask if you did anything wrong to send him away. I’m wary of the type because the initial reasons he’s taken with you are, in the end, the same ones he’ll hate you for. A man like that is only interested in a lady to kiss his forehead and give him the distractions he needs to forget himself.

I’ve been feeling nervous, the kind that, neglected, transforms into something worse. Like desperation. Everyone knows that in New York no one helps you when you have an air of desperation. Like grief, it feels contagious.

Yes, there are shades of Ivy League,

“So what do you do?” People love to ask that question. They know there’s a right answer but fail to let you know what it is until it’s too late. I said, “There’s a poem that goes, ‘When I’m not painting, I’m writing, and when I’m not writing, I’m suffering,’ so I guess I’m suffering ’cause I don’t make a thing.”

They must look to her whenever they state a claim, searching her face for signs of approval or rapport. She becomes their touchstone. I admired that because even when she is quiet, she is wielding.

“Isn’t a vacation when you forget what day it is?

I wonder when we were last truly carefree. Were we ever? It’s an odd, impalpable thing to always chase. I’ve felt it in small, delicious fragments, and usually when I’m dancing. The only way to achieve even the veneer of such freedom is to resist being pulled down by the weight of everything.

She introduced Gala and me to the critic: “Isn’t it rare to find two people who like art without the intention of ever making it? I’m really wowed by people without artistic inclinations, aren’t you?” The critic peered over his glasses to take a good look at us. “How do you know they’re not just gathering material?”

Being high up in a building, watching cars move up and down the street like glittering bugs and not being able to hear honking makes me feel deaf. Very unnatural, but I suppose some people like to get as far away from the street as possible.

I don’t know why I’ve always liked brutes. They drink too much for lack of the right language to express themselves. Sometimes they’re too scared to express anything at all, but it’s never obvious. They appear coarse, aloof, absolutely taciturn. They have always been my weakness.

People love Paris, but they forget it smells like a urinal. Being there is like paying someone to be rude to you and deciding to like it.

‘Je m’en fous’ and ‘C’est quoi ce bordel?’”

He carried the air of being on display.

I’m having waves of remorse.

“Well, come on. What happened?” Gala asked. The only time girls can really shake those feelings is when they repeat the night to their friends. People take this ritual lightly, as though it has not been a tradition that has aided girls in regaining their bravery after every misstep for almost ever.

Beauty is a funny thing. It fools you into thinking you like someone when really all you want is to possess them.

It seems like the promise of money in New York always requires an investment up front.

To be free to communicate without consequence—is that ever a possibility?

Athleticism is pure in how you can only be very good and very bad at sport. And if you’re good, you’re good. It’s not like art or beauty, where everything can be argued. You either land a little trick or you don’t. People really thirst for that kind of truth in their lives.