(from the files) 650. a bad thought with legs

keaton said, i should be home in about forty minutes.

then this crazy thought from out of nowhere crossed my mind, i wonder if she'll walk through the door in a little lacy, french maid number.
holy smokes what a bad thought.
don't know what prompted it, but there it was all the same.
it's not like she's done that before—she hasn't.
geez, my mind is really broken.
anyway, i needed to respond.

so i said, plus tard mon amour.
keaton said, oh my, french. it sounds sexy. translation please?
i answered, oh nothin', don't pay any attention to me.
keaton said, okay, whatever. look, i just remembered,  i need to make a quick stop to pick something up but should be there soon.

then i thought, hmm ... a quick stop to pick something up? just remembered? merci!

so i responded, no problem, take your time. see ya later.

i can be so cool under the pressure of a bad thought with legs.