The Graphic Details Read Online Free Page A

all around me, and… it just wasn’t me, you
know.”
    “And graphic design is?” I asked. I thought I
was beginning to slur my words a bit by that time. I hoped he
hadn’t noticed.

    “Graphic design is absolutely me,” he said,
and his eyes trailed off toward the bar floor, as if he were
looking off into the far off distance. “From childhood, I’ve always
been infatuated with the design of things. Even in nature, like
fields of grass and mountains. You know, it’s amazing the design
you can find in something as simple as, say, rocks. Sometimes I go
and study them, and I swear I can see faces staring back at me,
like Mother Nature herself trying to communicate with me, telling
me that I’m not alone in this world. I feel like she created the
designs just for me.”
    I watched his mouth intently as he said this.
His words flowed out like poetry to me. It was nice him opening up
to me. It might have been that Vodka Tonic, but him saying all this
made me feel warm inside. He finally noticed the way I was looking
at him and his face immediately turned red.
    “I’m sorry. That must sound like the craziest
thing you’ve ever heard,” he said. I wanted to grab his face and
give him the deepest kiss I had ever given anyone, and tell him
that I grew up feeling the exact same way about the design in
nature, that Mother Nature was my parent as well; that she had
designed the world just for the two of us to play in and to help
her with its on going creation.
    “Oh no. I totally get it,” was what I said
instead. I figured it was much less clingy and creepy.
    “How about a couple more drinks?” he offered
and I nodded.
    He came back with another Tonic for me, and
he switched it up and got himself a rum and coke.
    “How about yourself, Kathy? How’d you get
into design?”
    “Well, I, like yourself, was into design at a
very young age. I would doodle a lot. In fact, I filled up what
seemed like hundreds of sketchbooks with all kinds of stuff. It’s
kind of funny, and kind of pathetic, but I have a whole closet full
of those books. You’d think I was nuts if you saw ‘em.”
    “You should show ‘em to me sometime.”
    “Yeah, sure. Come over and see my crazy woman
closet full of sketches. When’s good?” I ask, half jokingly, half
hopeful.
    “How about tonight? After this?”
    “What?”
    “You said you lived close, and I’d love to
see your stuff, no matter how out of date it might be.”
    Maybe it was the alcohol that made him brave
enough to ask that. I looked at him suspiciously, and he recognized
it.
    “I… I’m sorry. That was way too forward.”
    I put up my hand to stop him saying anything
else. Perhaps, the alcohol was getting to me as well, but I
answered, “Sure. Why not?”
    “Are you sure? Because, I don’t want to make
it seem like I’m pressuring…”
    I put up my hand once again as downed the
contents of my glass in one, long gulp.
    “Well, what are you waiting for? I’ve
finished mine. Finish yours so we can get outta here.
     
     
    “ Services” Rendered
     
    We actually stayed for a bit more and had
three more drinks while we talked about arbitrary things like music
and television––it was like we were both trying to save the good
conversation for later. When we got to my place, I stumbled into my
apartment and I turned on my dim lighting and I sloppily threw my
things on to the couch. I was slightly drunk and because of that, I
lacked a little finesse at the time; five vodka tonics tend to do
that to someone with as low a tolerance for alcohol as I have.
    “Make yourself at home, Chuck,” I slurred at
him.
    “Well, here’s the obligatory ‘This is a nice
place you got here.’”
    “Why, you sarcastic fuck.” The irony was that
I had said that sarcastically. He smiled and said, “In all
seriousness, I do think it’s a wonderful place. I love the
placement of these pictures. You really do have an eye for that
kind of stuff.”
    “I try. But I bet it’s noting