random meeting

i'm writing on concrete at 2a.m. fucking freezing, but alive. a guy in an abercrombie polo comes zigzagging through the parking lot staring at his toes. he looks up and sees me, pauses, and tries fruitlessly to compose himself. i smile politely in our awkwardness. approaching the sidewalk, he gives me a coy grin and misses the step, stumbles, and lands on his face. i put my pen down and offer my hand. he laughs and i can almost taste the vodka. i think he mumbles a thank you and lingers on my arm for a moment, then trots off, waving his hands like a conductor to a rhythm in his skin.