blue crush

Hot hot hot!
108 degrees here today.

Clad in a strapless caribbean blue sweetheart dress, I knocked on Pam’s door.
“Too much?”
Lizzie had just chopped off almost all of my auburn hair. She was an aspiring hairdresser, and had just turned me into Pam’s clone. It stood at exactly three inches and I was going for the tousled, just-had-an-orgasm, sophisticated look. I added some gold bangles, 70s heels, and I had done my eyeliner just right. I walked downstairs and waited.
“You’re gonna wear those? We gotta long walk.”
Lance pulled a joint out of his fedora and gave me the look of mischief.
I ran back upstairs and threw off my heels and put on my Minnetonka Moccasins. Much better.
I knew we were headed for North Beach – one of my favorite parts of town. It felt like a mini Las Vegas. Strip joints, flashing lights, people running in the streets, the smell of vodka in the air.
We stopped in the middle of Chinatown to light up a spliff.