My heart breaks and heals with every beat.
November 26, 2002
Here's what happened to me between yesterday and this morning.
1) I was having a drink at a bar/restaurant in my neighborhood last night. I stopped in alone and sat at the counter. While I was chatting to my pal Colin, the owner, in walks a beautiful, tall, slender, Eurasian girl who interrupted us to ask if the restaurant serves corn on the cob. They didn't, so she ordered mashed potatoes. instead. While she waited, she explained that she just ate some delicious corn on the cob on a stick from a Mexican place on Bedford Avenue, and that she was hungry for more. You know how girls are when they crave something specific. I thought to myself, "This girl is nutty—just my type". Anyway, she asked me if I came there often—where I lived—etc. After a few minutes, a guy comes in who had been waiting outside. “What’s the deal?” he said.
“Uh oh,” I thought.
She told him that she's waiting for her order and he goes back outside.
She makes sure to tell me that the guy is just a friend of hers, not her boyfriend.
“Does he know that?” I asked.
She shrugged and introduced herself, asked my name, and we shook hands. We chatted until her food came, she paid up and left. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
A guy seated next to me at the counter watched the whole encounter and asked me what my problem was. “Why didn;t you get her number?”
I told him, just like I'm telling you, I'm a fuck up, pure and simple.
2) I was waiting for the subway this morning, when I caught the eye of a cute girl—she looked like a cross between Wynona Ryder and a stranger, with huge, doll eyes. We got on the same car and stole glances at each other until we both got off at the same stop. I watched her go to a different exit than me and figured, "Oh well, there she goes." But then I saw her at the intersection a block later. We both got stuck behind the same annoying old couple who were walking slowly, taking up the entire sidewalk. I finally broke the ice and said, "Looks like we're both on the same schedule." She laughed—"Yes—I'm late." We introduced ourselves as we walked. We talked about where we both work, what we do for fun, what our plans were for Thanksgiving, and so on.
"I go this way," I said, when we got to the street where I work.
“I work farther up the street,” she said, and gave me the name of the restaurant.
We shook hands, got each other's names, and that was that—again, a big dopey idiot. When I arrived at work, I told the story to a guy I work with, and he immediately looked up the number of the restaurant, handed it to me, and told me to call.
Maybe. I'll keep you posted.
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Date: 2002-11-26 22:50:23
Ok, so I'm not a total loser. I'm a little dorky, maybe, a partial loser, perhaps, but not a total loser. When I left work, I was so pissed at myself for my recent missed opportunities that I walked to the restaurant of the girl I met this morning and went inside to see if she’d like to go out sometime. But she had already left for the day. I asked the two girls there if I could leave a note.
“Sure.”
The one behind the bar gave me a pen and a business card to write on. I proceeded to write a long, goofball note. "I met you this morning—blah blah blah—I stopped by—blah blah—I wanted to ask if I could call you—blah blah—maybe you'll call me—" I gave it to the bartender, who was very nice, and started to walk out the door before I realized that it might be a good idea to put my phone number on the note. "Uh, excuse me? Can I have that note back? I forgot something.” So I found an empty speck with barely enough room to write my phone number.
Dork.
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Date: 2002-11-29 19:06:44
To whom it may concern, I wish I had met you before I was a zombie. Thank You, Jamie
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Date: 2002-11-30 17:36:49
The light was weird—like pink fluorescent bulbs behind a frosted sky. I ran into the subway girl on the corner. Hi, hello, happy Thanksgiving, etc. Got your note—how are you? I have your number—I'll call you—gotta run— And that's all I'm going to say about it.
Spent Thanksgiving with the family. My Mom's still sick, my Dad threw out his back, my sister just got fired, and my niece just dropped out of school. I planted the bulbs I brought back with me from Amsterdam. They had been thriving in my backyard garden, and I didn’t want to leave them behind when I moved, so I dug them all up.
I made some jokes, ate some food, and left.
I was supposed to meet my friend Ali at her new apartment in Hoboken, but she blew me off. I got back to the city about 11 PM. Ali called to apologize, and we talked and laughed, and drank wine long distance. I went to the corner deli to get something to drink, and as I was in line to pay, I heard two guys behind me planning out their purchase of antacids and cigarettes. I thought to myself, "I know those guys!" And sure enough, I did. I tagged along with them back to the apartment of my friends and neighbors, Mike and Libby. A half a dozen overfed bodies were strewn about their living room watching Blazing Saddles and groaning about that third piece of pie. A little Mylanta. a few Tums, and before you knew it, everyone was passing the guitar around and singing songs about asses. George took his shirt off, smeared his face with whipped cream, and sang his usual teeth-grinding, surreal stream of consciousness songs. Libby had cheesecloth on her head, and Mike tried to sleep. I walked home and passed out. Slept most of the day yesterday. And today, as I said, I ran into the subway girl.
