rhinestone platform heels

whenever I listen to Donna Summer I feel like it’s 1979 and I’m in Studio 54 wearing a rhinestone mini dress and platform heels dancing to some bad disco mash up and then I spot cute Saturday Night Fever/Grease era young John Travolta and I hit on him and he starts talking to me because I look that good and besides, he’s on some uppers and will fvck anything that moves. he buys me a drink and things are going good until he starts talking to me about Scientology, which he converted to in 1975. I smile awkwardly and tell him I’m going to the bathroom but instead I slip out through the back door of the club, though first I buy a bit of cocaine from the dealer who’s hanging out at the exit, which I quickly snort in a dark alley. then I go home and cry myself to sleep to the sweet sound of the Bee Gees on vinyl