Saxon

Sax:  Got this ipod dock that’s an alarm clock.  Six AM, the Hamster Dance song blares from the speakers, waking me up happy.  I mean, I’m not happy to be up at six in the morning, but who can be a shithead when the Hamster Dance song is playing?  Weeehoo!

     Still, I’d rather get laid in the morning.  You know, wake up with a guy who doesn’t have to run out the door for a class or a job, or on the other hand, doesn’t pull my grandmother’s quilt up over his eyes and groan, roll over.  Ignore the Hamster Dance.  Say “Rumph!” in protest if I try to inspire him.

     You know, someone like me.  I want someone like me.  I’ll even take someone who likes me, me, Saxon, Hamster Dancer, smart, sexy, hair so short there’s no bed head.  Me!  Scrabble fiend, lover of mani-pedi’s, wearer of tees with words:  That was Zen, this is Tao. 

     Mother of –

     Naah, I don’t want to talk about that.

Sax (short for Saxon)

Sax, short for Saxon, is an older OG, in her twenties.  Sax writes these short blurbs about things she’s noticed or seen or felt…

Sax:  He had a six tattooed in plain blue ink on his wrist.  If we hadn’t been naked together and oh so close, I wouldn’t have seen it.  When I asked him what it meant, he told me that his best friend Selena gave him that tattoo because he’d broken six women’s hearts.  But what was really important was that Selena was dead now, murdered by a jealous boyfriend, and the number six on his wrist was all he had left of her.