Bland isn’t my colour. It doesn’t go with my skin tone or my hair. I prefer bitch over boring. I expect colour over grey. I’m on one side of the fence, not sitting on it, in fact, most days I’ll probably push it over.
I walked from the village last Sunday over to have breakfast with my mirror in Redfern. We kissed and sat down.
“Am I intense?” I stared at him.
It was early in the morning and I should have given him time to sit down. He sat back in his chair and grinned, sunglasses hiding his, I’m sure, delighting eyes.
“Darling, you are … an acquired taste”, he stroked the hair on my arm.
I rolled my eyes and shooed him off my arm. He cackled.
The waitress came and I ordered my breakfast in the same manner that Bette Midler does in Big Business when she’s with Fabio-what’s-his-face and orders a Campari and Soda.
“I just know what I want” I continued consoling myself in front of him. I’m never going to be one of those guys who plays it safe, I already did it for 30 years”.
We both stopped talking and ogled a muscled guy in a tight tank top crossing the street. Anthony reached over and pretended to prop my chin up to close my gaping mouth.
Another couple walked past with matching Prada sunnies and rolled up shorts and thongs. This time we both rolled our eyes. I looked at us, both laughing, wearing board shorts, thongs and t-shirts and stabbing chunks of fetta from the plate in front and peppery Bloody Mary’s at our fingertips.
Green is my favourite colour, it’s gentle and describes my nature overall. Red is the colour that best describes my soul, passionate. With passion, comes fire, and like all things on each end of the spectrum it can polarise people.
It takes a little while to get in and know me, and once you do, it’s a gentle swirl of all colours, but every now and then, just for no reason, there is a little splash of red.
LOVE! I too am red, with a little blue – haha love the way you described stabbing the fetta in that moment haha