Something Borrowed, Something Used

I went into work today, I work at the internet café, the one on North street.
My co-worker, Brendon, knew you through his cousin, Brian.

Remember Brian? He’s the one who caused that ‘snit’ between us, I could’ve killed him, and Brendon too for being guilty by association and then a little more.
But I wouldn’t, not Bren anyways, he’s cool.

Sometimes I think you would really like him, and then I remember…You did.

He’s all hipster but leagues ahead of the others.
He prints his own t-shirts and sews patches he made on to his bag.
At home he has a collection of colorful rubber bands and safety clips that he makes artwork with.

Brendon’s an artist so he’s in charge of the café set up.
The black and white stencil of Jean Harlow’s on the dark red walls are perfect.
Innovative is one word I could use to describe him.

In some ways he reminds me of you…
The way he pretends to be in charge, the way he gets all upset about something and just won’t leave it alone. Like when some guy comes in to browse porn sites, he gets pissed and kicks them out, sometimes I’ve had to be the back up.
You always had a rant saved on that subject and the guys having to do with it.
Funny, huh?
You, Proud little seductive you.
So funny.
Work is never dull though, we get the freaks and the geeks and the best of them.

To me the smell of coffee comes hand in hand with cigarette smoke.
You never smoked but Bren does.

Maybe after a long day and there’s too much on his mind, things he just needs to sort out, and then sometimes when his ex comes by…
He hurt Brendon pretty bad, maybe worse than you hurt me, or even worse than you hurt him.

Another way he’s like you is how he kisses.
That’s right… Kisses.

Does that make you jealous?

I hope it does.