one of those glaring flourescent lights bathed the bathroom at hooter's, turning my skin ugly and pale. i wondered about the women who came in here, our waitress with eyes that didn't seem to look at anyone, the tooloud girls at the table behind us, making rude, desperate comments over the flyers game on tv. a full-length mirror leaned drunkenly against one whitetiled wall, tilted so that i could only see myself from the shoulders down.

on the shelf above the sinks lay two blackhandled steak knives, pointing all their violence at the mirrors, sharp edge against sharp edge, threatening, afraid.