there's a place where lovers go to cry their troubles away

And they call it Lonesome Town
Where the broken hearts stay
You can buy a dream or two
To last you all through the years
And the only price you'll pay
Is a heart full of tears

I remember when I worked at the movie theatre the summer before freshman year. I was exposed to a lot of truly foul things, especially consessions. Did you know that nacho cheese comes in a plastic bag that has to be squished around like some unnaturally orange (seriously, this orange probably does not occur in nature) leftover liposuction? And that there are 10 grams of TRANS FATS per TEASPOON of that buttery topping you use to douse your stale ass popcorn? Truth. And I'll never forget the time I had a nervous breakdown because I got the most moronic customers this side of the Mississippi back to back. One lady armed with her spawn asked to see the cup sizes, so I put them on the counter in order - small, medium, large. AND SHE ASKED ME WHICH ONE IS THE MEDIUM. Maybe the one that's in the middle! And then the lady after her inquired if I could put a LEMON SLICE in her Diet Coke. This is Kerasotes Cinemas, cunt muffin! Not the fucking country club! Probably the strangest aspect of working there was that there was so much inner-employee drama of hook-ups and backstabbing. Incestuous fucking pool of popcorn cleanser and GBS kids. Weird shit.

My brain is slowly but surely becoming mashed potatoes. I think it should be at its prime around Thanksgiving. Deep breaths. That's wassup.

No need to cry about it
I cannot live without it
Every time I wind up back at your door