Archive for the ‘The Young One stories’ Category

Back to the Future

May 27, 2008

Well, I know I now owe you, my dear readers, about a month’s worth of material–and a whirlwind of activity it has been. But I continue to be busy and to not have much computer time, so I can’t promise that I can catch you up here.

But, briefly, Ms. Hold ‘Em and I are in a mode (and have been for three plus weeks now) of re-trying a relationship. Amazingly, all of the good things from before are still intact and much of the craziness that drove me up a wall is gone–thus far at least. The changes have been amazing–both in their drasticness and in their consistency. But we will see what we will see.

This past holiday weekend, MHE and her daughter and I went down to the Aquarium on Saturday. Her daughter loved the sea lion show and we all loved the day. On Sunday I took my boys to an Irish Fest–hope Ihave time to write about one funny incident that day. And on Monday, I hung out at MHE’s and we grilled steaks–porterhouses that cost $5 a pound! That’s like FREE in the porterhouse world!

Oh, and back on Friday, I watched the kids most of the night then we to MHE’s to watch a movie. I left there at 2 and, on a whim (okay, so the Young One and her friend had both texted me asking me why I wasn’t there) I stopped down the secret bar.

Though it was shortly after two, the music was blaring and like 15 people were dancing out on the porch. I noticed that two of them were police officers–though I’m not sure if in the long run that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Anyway, the Young One and her friend were both kind of drunky, and I got lots of hugs and we did lots of catching up. I was feeling a bit guilty because, with MHE and I together at the moment, it was kind of awkward hanging out and being friendly with them without allowing myself to get sucked into something that would later lead MHE to ritually castrate me. Of course, then they left and I found myself there with the owner, the bartender and her cousin, who had shown some interest in me in the recent past–how many Scylla and Charibdis’s can there be in one night? Anyway, after the conversation got suggestive (with the owner that doesn’t take long) and the cousin was eyeing me like I was a piece of tasty steak, I left–not just to get away from the conversation, but also because I was dead tired.

At any rate, that’s a quick wrap for this weekend. More soon I hope.

A Duck’s Back

April 18, 2008

I wish I had more time to write because I know lost somewhere in the last period of not writing much are a bunch of good stories. But I will at least give a few details about recent events.

Okay, first of all, last weekend’s visit with the Young One: I was talking to my friend P. the other day and in talking realized how many times the Young One has hinted at the possibility of a little something something. His reply: “You HAVE to go for it. Not just for yourself but for all of your friends who will never have the chance!” OIh, and he also described her as “Teeming with fuck me sexuality.” In case you wanted to have an idea why she is often the topic of our thoughts.

What I had also forgotten about that night was that I also saw her friend LL, whom I had drunkenly sent a myspace message to at 4 AM after the evening that MHE dumped me. You can only imagine what it was like. Oddly enough, I think that, rather than being annoyed or amused by it, she has since been intrigued. We’ll see if that is yet another possibility there. Oh–and I was discussing these two women with Dice-G, a co-worker of mine. We tend to have these wonderfully workplace-inappropriate conversations. And, so, this comment was not atypical: “You HAVE to work on a threesome–think of it, they’re legal AND their ages don’t add up to yours! You’ll make the guy ‘hall of fame’ instantly!”

Like I said: on a roll.

And then Tuesday night I was hanging out with the pool league guys (but no MHE because of her new grift job). As expected Tragedy Girl showed up on the scene. I slowly drifted over to her and we chatted on and off for awhile, played the bar video game (she’s no MHE or “Other Option” when it comes to word games), and, of course, before I knew it, she had had quite a number of shots and was all over me like, like, um, you know, something that is all over something else, like, a lot. Not that I’m complaining and not that I wasn’t fully involved in the fun–I’m just saying is all. Anyway, at the start of the night had told her that I wasn’t staying past eleven (hey, it’s a work night) so round about 12:30 I finally decided to head home, despite the good times. So, she walked me to my car and we both showed off our kinesthetic learning style.

Funny thing is, since this has all been fun and stuff, at times I tend to take a step back and observe us fairly objectively. Like when she was holding my arms telling me how strong I felt–hey, right thing to say to a guy and maybe you’re drunken self actually half believes it, but if you know me you know that that is what Huck Finn would call a “stretcher” at best. It makes me wonder how many patently untrue things I’ve also drunkenly said to her. (The only one I can think of is “No, I didn’t laugh when you tripped in the same spot for the third time.”)

Anyway, she also had this disturbing habit of talking about relationship possibilities–and mind you I went into this little escapade with the sense that a “relationship” was NOT what she was ready for (she’s fairly recently, unexpectedly widowed). So, it was a bit amusing when, the next day, she texted me and said sorry I don’t think we should have a relationship. Sorry? No, thank you for climbing onto the same page. I’m interested to see what happens the next time I see her out. Will she go back to the vodka shots and come back to me looking for a little something? And, hey, whatever. She will or she won’t. It’s all water off a duck’s back at this point.

Last night MHE and I made plans to hang out this weekend. She’s on a mini-vaca watching someone’s house so it’ll be fun to hang low with her and her daughter. I’ll be making dinner for us, hopefully reminding her that I’m the best damned thing to come along since Black Cherry vodka. Although, actually, I think I came first…

All in all I’m still not sure what or who I want. MHE still has a lot of question marks and everyone else, well, is everyone else at this point. I saw a drunk JetBlue last night and spent some tme in a painful conversation. Though I don’t think it was my intent, our talking definitely caught MHE’s attention and she looked mildly irked. But then again, she sometimes carries that face even when she isn’t.

Well, I’ve rambled on long enough for now. Next Wednesday I will have an audience with the Queen. Should be a fun time. Sushi and downtown and a museum? Sounds like a plan.

As If Life Weren’t Confusing Enough

April 3, 2008

UPDATED: Because it wasn’t already long enough… 

Let’s see, I remember last Thursday as being uneventful. Though the campfire was set up at the secret bar, it wasn’t in use yet, which was a bit of a bummer to both Miss Hold ‘Em (MHE) and I. It’s sad, but I can’t really remember much from that evening. Oh well, maybe it’ll come back to me or maybe it really was THAT uneventful.

Friday–parade weekend starts!–was a bit more eventful. First there was the disappointment of finding out that the Young One would not be working at the secret bar one final week. (Oh wait, I found that out Thursday and after C. told me he once again said “Are you sure there’s nothing going on between you too? You can tell me.”) But anyway, I went out with the Other Option. We went to a downtown bar hoping it would be partytime, but it was just okay. Then we went to the bar above the secret bar. A big step for me, bringing her into the world that MHE and I had occupied together for several months. She met a couple of bartenders, but the bar was fairly quiet otherwise. We played the videogame and got a few high scores. It pays to hang around with the smart ladies! Then we went back downtown. By the end of the evening she was fairly well drunky so when we got back to her place I got to drive the babysitter home. Now, in my past I’ve had to drive several babysitters home and let me say that that is one of the more awkward situations in the world. Adult guy, teenage girl–whom you hardly know (and she doesn’t really know you from anyone)–the conversations are always forced and stilted. I’m always worried that I’ll say something that comes out wrong and seems sketchy to the person. Or she’ll notice that I’ve had a few drinks and her parents will be ripshit that I drove her in that condition. So many things. Anyway, I went back to the Other Option’s for a while. Thank you, Miller Lite.

After that, I stopped down to the secret bar for a brief visit. C.–who had pledged to stay in that night–was there. Not much was going on, but it was a pleasant ending to a pleasant evening.

Saturday–roadrace day–was great. First of all, thank you to the 3,200 runners who’s fitness regime makes it possible for the other thousands of us to drink out in the streets of downtown in the middle of the afternoon! It was a bit windy that day, but after a few stops in the beer tents who’s going to notice. I won’t go into all the details except to say that MHE, more or less out of the blue, decided to stop by on her way home from errands. Well, maybe less ‘out of the blue’ because on Friday I sent her and her daughter flowers just to express how I felt about our ongoing friendship and to celebrate the most important weekend in the year in our little part of the world. (No really, that was my only goal in sending them. Honestly. I know, I know, in a way it was probably calculated to let her know that I’m the sweetest fucking thing to ever drop into her life. But, really, it was all about friendship. Oh, and I know that it could have totally backfired. But, it didn’t. End of parenthetical statement.) We stopped by a couple of bars together and had a nice chat. Just in case the current status of our being “(not a) couple” wasn’t confusing enough, she re-invited me to a Sox game in May, told me she wished we had kept the concert tickets we had and gone together as friends because “clearly, we would have had a real good time” but at the same time reiterated her desire to remain single for now. And, she asked me for a ride home the next night after the parade and the night of drinking to follow. Interesting, wha!? Oh, and she also told me that her parents were “rooting for me” and that every person she had talked to had indicated to her that I was a great guy. Clearly, though, she’s smart enough not to listen to EVERYone including her own feelings, But, hey, I think we’re both happier without the pressure of a relationship anyway. I know I’m in no real rush to jump back into that maelstrom of a heart that she has.

But, anyway, after an afternoon of drinking, I went home and napped a couple of hours and then tried to head out again around eight. But, it was clear to me that I was too tired and my head was heavy from the afternoon of drinking so I was home before I knew it…

Which is good because I had to be up at quarter to six in order to fulfill my duties to the parade. The day went smoothly. I positioned myself along the route near the location I expected MHE would be. We talked a few times briefly, had a cigarette together and, when the parade was over, headed out together. Our first stop was at the end of the route. We stopped at a bar downtown. It was fairly crowded, lots of bikers and stuff. Oh, and a tank parked out front. I wish I had my camera with me for that one.

Then we headed down to the secret bar. We had a nice time together all afternoon, hanging out, being close and flirty and all. But, in the back–or actually the front–of my mind, I knew that MHE’s goal for the day was to drink like crazy so I knew that at some point things would turn chaotic. But, for once, I didn’t really care because, as we say down at the bar, “it ain’t my turn to watch her.”

Oh, by the way, did I mention that throughout the parade and throughout the night she was wearing a green hat and a green and white boa? Please picture this at all times throughout the rest of this part of the story…

Sunday night’s chaos came in the form of attempting to solve all of her friends’ problems and, in so attempting, pissing off several people. No, MHE, ‘you really shouldn’t have told that person what I think of them’ several people were surely thinking. Or trying to tell her. But, when she’s in full chaos mode, everything she does is right–and if people get pissed off that she’s solving their problem for them, that’s their, um, problem.

And I just sat back and watched and noted it for when the time comes that I have to decide if I can really put up with her.

Finally, at some point later in the evening, her friend (whom she had watched the parade with) called. MHE, standing near the speaker blaring music, kept saying “I can’t hear you.” But, she didn’t actually think of moving away from the speaker. Then she got off the phone and said to me: “We hafta go up to her house.” (Oh, do we?) I asked why and she said something about a problem that needed fixing (thank you, god, for allowing me to not laugh hysterically), but first she needed to get another drink, “in case she doesn’t have any alcohol up at the house.” (did I ever say I would actually go there?). And then MHE decided she needed to stop upstairs–I don’t remember if she said why, but I kind of wondered if she already forgot about her mission to visit her friend. So, we went upstairs and she sat down near the pool table and, basically, was all over me. Now I’m not much for PDAs, but hey, after a sixteen hour day anything seems reasonable.

Then, hahaha, as we were headed back downstairs we ran across a young couple having a drunken argument (apparently the woman had asked a Hispanic person how to say “If I suck your dick will you lick my pussy?” in Spanish and, somehow, her boyfriend got upset about it. Oh, and he poured a drink over her head…gotta love parade day). And, MHE says to me: “Hold on a sec, I can help.” Now she started all reasonable, asking the woman if she needed a ride home, considering the anger going on. But, when the woman refused, MHE then decided to mediate and kept going back and forth between the two. It was priceless. I’ve never heard anyone quite so illogically and chaotically attempt to settle a dispute. After a few minutes I walked away to get a drink and came back after a cigarette to find her still mediating. By this point, both of them just wanted to be anywhere else but talking to her, but she kept it up, trying to show them the logic of her ways. Finally I think they made up out of frustration at not being able to get away from her.

UPDATE: I almost forget the funniest, most ironic part of her “conversation” with these people: at one point she said to them that “communication is the key to a good relationship.” Hahaha, coming from the person who dumped me without ever giving any indication that something was wrong. The person who, when I asked her what was wrong, said “Nothing. Nothing at all.” (right before the dumping) Hehehe…gotta love that stuff.

As we were headed back to the secret bar, I made an executive decision: “Time to go home.” And at first she was like “I’d like to stop inside for a minute.” But I just repeated myself and she, perhaps, saw that it indeed was time to go. On the way home, she insisted on stopping at McDonalds–“McDonalds, the Oasis of the Drunken Desert”–and I don’t remember exactly what we talked about (and I’m sure she only barely remembers the ride home). But the night was well and truly done.

On Tuesday, pool night, MHE decided to stay home because of a lot of schoolwork due the next day. I was down there with P. and, of course, most of the pool team. I won games against both P. and the Sicilian before the league started. Quite the achievement considering how much better than I they are. Not much to note from the evening except that the Cigarette Moocher was there and she added to the “number of cigarette mooched” record that she no doubt holds. Tina Feylike girl was there as well. At least MHE wasn’t there to get jealous that I once again spoke briefly with her. It was a good night, but I did miss MHE and her Tueday night flirtathon. It’s always nice to be flirted with and it’s equally funny to watch her flirt her way around the pool team. But, hey, it all is what it is until it isn’t it anymore.

Tonight, we shall see what poker night might bring. I’m marginally in charge of the bar at least for a while tonight. Of course that mostly consists of fetching things for the bartender and making sure that she gets herself out of the bar and to her car safely. It’ll be interesting to see what’s up with MHE. Can’t wait to find out what she remembers from Sunday or how she remembers it.

Should be fun.

UPDATE: We didn’t get much of a chance to talk, but the mood–as it always seems to be on Thursdays–was friendly, almost formal, rather than flirty and fun. Oh, and we have a “date” tonight. Well, I invited her to a party with friends that she wasn’t otherwise invited to,so I’m considering it a date. And when I referrred to it as a date in a text message she didn’t say otherwise, so, in my books, it’s a date. Thing is, lately a large part of me doesn’t really want to date her, given her chaoticness. But, still, the other part of me  still thinks it could work.

Crystal ball anyone?

No Update Will Keep You Updated

March 18, 2008

Well, it’s been a busy few days, so I’m not sure how much justice I can do to them. But I’ll try to at least give you an outline. I wish I had more time to write, but whatever I can pump out will have to do.

Let’s see, Thursday I went down to the secret bar. Ms. Hold Em showed up eventually. It seemed a bit awkward for her at first, but over the course of the night we had a few cigarettes together and were certainly friendly and at the end of the night we played the video game a bit. But it was fairly low key. Nothing wrong with any of that.

At one point in the evening I went down to the scary bar with the owner and another guy. I think he invited because he figured it would be good for me to have a change of scene, plus, now that I’m single again I can once again be his wingman when he’s desperate for one. It was rocking down there and a lot of fun except for this moment when the other guy we were with and I were outside having a cigarette and some guy hanging around out there asked us for money for a drink. I had noticed him hanging out outside all night so he seemed particularly sketchy to me. So, my pal gave him $5 and told him to be sure to tip the bartender. Then the guy just kept standing there. And, instead of ignoring that my pal started to harass the guy about not going in for a drink. I was so happy when the owner came out right around then and we got to take off. I was just wondering what the guy was going to pull outof his overcoat.

And, despite it being a work night, I ended up staying until closing. MHE had left early, as well as the owner and C., so I didn’t want to leave the bartender there alone with the couple of poker players who were lingering behind–you never know when they might be desperate for cash and the secret bar is back in an alleyway so it has that element of dangerousness. And, you know, I’m a good guy like that. Anyway, L., the bartender and I were talking and the subject of MHE came up. And I was heartened to hear L. make several comments about MHE’s behavior when we were dating that I had noticed too but that MHE had always made me feel like I was being paranoid about. Just further confirmation that on the whole I’m better off.

Well, anyway, on Friday I had a date. Dinner, drinks, and a Celtic-y concert. It was a great time and a great change of pace. It may just turn out to be a one-off deal but it was a satisfying evening. And, I still managed to have the chance to visit the Young One and C. down at the secret bar at the end of the night. That was a pleasant end to the evening. I got quizzed several times about my date, which, I don’t know, for some reason made me feel good. One of the Young Ones “followers” was there–yet another of one of many young guys who will spent their whole night sitting and talking to her. On our respective ways home we texted back and forth a bit and joked about her groupies. You know she eats that shit up.

Saturday evening was pretty messed up. First I spent time with the kids and their beloved mother at an Irish night (that wasn’t the messed up part, oddly enough). Before that C. had called me to tell me that he and L. had had a screaming match and he needed to be out of the house. We met up at the secret bar (while it was closed) and hung out awhile. And he said he wasn’t going down there that night (L. was working) so if I wanted to meet up, call him at 9.

So anyway, at first I did that but then thought of L. all alone down at the secret bar so, instead of going out with the guys, I went down to the secret bar and kept her company and talked her through her feelings. And to be honest, of the two she is the one that I agree with. But, besides some heavy discussion until the crowds arrived, not much happened. At one point I did go upstairs with C. and discovered that it was some sort of unannounced “chubby girl night” going on. Talk about being the king hog in hog heaven! But, anyway, I digress…

Sunday was super-secret-super-scary bar for a score of us after our meeting. Once again it was an unusual and crazily wonderful time. Let’s just say we went through 4 rounds in the first hour and only a few people slowed down after that! I ended the night up at the usual bar (above the secret bar) and by 8:30 s-0called “Blackout Sunday” was done for me. There’s more details there but nothing so interesting that I have time to cover it. Sorry, dear readers.

On Tuesday morning I woke up to an interesting and (for me) confusing email from MHE. To sum up briefly, in it she said that she had used me for a reference for a scholarship because “you were the first person I thought of” and, after a bit more she added: “If you could help me out I would really appreciate it…Okay I will stop begging now…. but just picture me on my knees begging…. Oh wait that isn’t the image I was going for. (I swear wasn’t trying to be dirty) : ) ”

That’s interesting…the old “I didn’t mean to say something sexually suggestive but instead of deleting that and finding different words I’ll just qualify it afterwards” trick. We’ve all played that one!

Oh, and she also invited me to stop by during their pool league tonight (it’s an away match which I hadn’t anticipated going near or her even thinking of inviting me to hang out at).

Yes, poor Mr. Setback is awash in some mixed messages here. This is the woman who dumped me unceremoniously a week ago. And now, there’s all sorts of stuff out there. Luckily, I think I’m doing a good job of managing my emotions and going into it with a clear mind and no expectations.

But I’ve said that before…wish me luck.

It’s All Good in the Twilight Zone

March 13, 2008

Let’s see. You’re due for some updates.

Friday night I went down to the secret bar to hang out. It was a quiet night. They did have some free pizza which was cool. Apparently they were expecting more than the six or seven people who actually showed up. But it was fun. I won a nice bit of money on the “for amusement only” machine so that was great. The bar ended up closing early and we went down to the scary bar. It was cool. I got to hang out with Friday’s bartender, the Young One, for a while. That was cool. I’ve (okay, like every guy in the universe) always been attracted to her so it was fun to be out together. At one point at the scary bar, one of the scary bar patrons made some sort of joke and I responded to it–I don’t even remember what it was–and then she said to the Young One: “You’re lucky. He’s a 120% man!” So we went along with the idea that we were together, just for fun of course. At one point I even put my arm around the Young One and told the scary bar patron that “She tells me I’m 130% man!” Another evening for the annals. We even stopped back at the secret bar for a super secret post-last call drink. Nothing like a sketchy 3 AM moment with C., the Young One, the owner, Runaround Sue, and the scary bar patron (mentioned above).

Saturday, Miss Hold ‘Em and I ate in at her house and then headed down to the secret bar. We had a nice night–had some drinks, played pool, watched first a bar crawl come through quickly and then some crazy Russians. C. asked me at one point if I had hooked up with the Young One the night before and, obviously the answer was no. Not that it isn’t something that every guy down there has dreamt of. I mean, come on, we’re only humen. But, anyway, the night went on relatively uneventfully. Oh, except that at the end of the night MHE broke up with me. You know, a typical Saturday night.

On Sunday I got to go down to Worc’ster to be a part of their St Paddy’s day parade. It was a fun day but it was wickedly, bitterly cold. Luckily I was numb to begin with, plus a friend gave me a wool hat that had been given him. So I managed to survive the elements.

Oh, yeah. As I mentioned above MHE dumped my sorry ass. Her only explanation was that “I had a feeling and I went with it.” On Tuesday we talked it over and–though like any couple I know we’ve got small problems–she really couldn’t pinpoint any reason other than it’s the way she was feeling. Oh well. As it turned out we had a great time Tuesday night. We spent parts of the evening together hanging out and haven’t laughed so much and been so at ease–I realized later that it was the most fun time I had felt with her in a long time. It was nice to not have to worry about relationshippy stuff I guess. But it still begs the question of why, in her (I increasingly realize) mind-boggling thought processes, the thought of actually talking over issues never came to mind. I’m thinking it has something to do with never having had a healthy relationship (that’s her own assessment of her past, not me being bitter) before. Do you have to learn to think of the option of working through problems? Perhaps.

On Tuesday I also stopped up at the bar up above for a while with a friend. The Jilted One was excited to see me and gave me a big hug. I wish I could bottle that feeling, hehe. But things weren’t too exciting up there so we headed back down below.

At any rate, I’ll be honest and say that I both hope and fear that at some point MHE and I will give it another go. But, to be honest, the more I see how she’s capable of acting without ever feeling any guilt or responsiblity for her actions clues me in on the fact that there seems to be some kind of damage getting in the way of her maintaining a relationship in a healthful way. I guess it’s a question of whether or not it’s a major and permanent problem or just a lack of experience combined with some, um, quirkiness. I don’t know. We’ll see what we shall see.

Last night I met some friends down at the bar. Lots of fun conversations. Got to vent a little to C., the genious who set up MHE and I (just kidding, despite this sudden turn of events I do appreciate his efforts). But to be honest, the more I talked to him the more I realized that the small problems she reacted against were really nothing compared to some of the shit she pulled on me. So, I’m happy to be moving steadily away from any kind of pining. And the thing is, other than spending Sunday in a hungover haze of rejection and anger and confusion, I’ve been pretty damn fine. After a year of careening through singleness which followed losing a meaningful relationship to a really special person (and, as I’ve admitted before that one was very much my fault), this break-up was more just a ‘what the fuck’ moment than a defining point in my life. And it was certainly further evidence that I shouldn’t be thinking about retiring this blog. Just when I thought my life was “boring” and “happy” suddenly MHE showed me that beneath a really wonderfully placid surface there can be some caustic substances brewing.

So, anyway, on Wednesday (last night) I struck up a friendship with the bartender. She’s a really cool, heavily tattooed chick who does some really crazy (in a cool way) art. No, kids, this isn’t the start of something. She’s engaged and all. But anyway, we got to talk more last night than we have in months and it was cool to really get to know someone that I’ve known a while. Also, C. made an interesting comment: several of us were talking about the Young One and how hot she is–if our “guy” conversations were organized as a Google search, “The Young One” would definitely be the “I’m Feeling Lucky” result–and C. (who previously imagined that I was hooking up with her on Friday)–said to me “You should go after her, for those of us who can’t.” And I was like, “Oh yeah, I’m twice her age. Like that’s going to happen.” [and, dear reader, please keep your snide “Afternoon Girl” comments to yourselves] And then he said “I don’t know. She’s always seemed to like you. She talks about you a lot.” And, the thing is, in a strange sort of way I wasn’t surprised at his assessment. She has always–in a friendly way–shown me a lot of attention and paid me lots of compliments. (She even ‘bought’ me on one of those goofy Facebook applications. Heh!) But, still, I know it ain’t gonna happen and I know that even entertaining the notion is just setting me up for a world of disappointment, so, sorry C., you’re going to have to find someone else to live through vicariously.

And, so yes dear readers, it’s all good. Tonight I’ll be seeing MHE down at the secret bar. We may or may not get a chance to hang out. If we do, I’m sure it will be fun because we’ve never had anything but a good time together. And it’ll be weird because I’m expecting that it’ll be further proof that Saturday’s “events” really make no sense in a normal, rational world.

But, oh wait, I just remembered that one of the premises of this blog is that the secret bar is a place where what is “normal” and “rational” is turned on edge and inverted and twisted and crumpled up in a ball and then thrown into the river. And if it doesn’t float. It doesn’t float.

So, not only will “no setback set me back” but also “no surprise will surprise me.”

“Love, Whatever That Is”

February 11, 2008

Let’s see, dear blog readers, what can I tell you…yesterday after my committee meeting we had our after meeting meeting at the secret bar, which C. opened just for my group. Very sweet. And Ms. Hold ‘Em was there and was able to meet a couple of my good friends for the first time. They both seemed impressed with her, or, you know, were polite even to pretend to be.

Although one of my friends, who is a good friend of the X, said to me (when Ms. Hold wasn’t around) “Well, it’s pretty clear you have a type. She and the X could be cousins.” Oh, man. And the thing is, as much as I’ve always denied it, she’s right–I definitely do have a type. In fact, Afternoon Girl, in her own extraordinarily put together way, fits the type pretty well too. Hey, what can I say? I knows whats I likes.

At any rate, it was a pleasant, drunkeny afternoon which ended in a brief trip to one bar to pay homage to the Sicilian and then up the hill to my former favorite haunt.

Hmmm, what else from the maelstrom of yawns that is my life can I report to you?

Hmm…Saturday night we watched one of the Bourne movies. The second one I believe. That was to prep me for watching the last one. Something like that. At any rate, Ms. Hold ‘Em has been a good sport, rewatching a lot of movies that I’ve wanted to see. We also got some Chinese take-out, which was okay, though I was very suspicious of a restaurant that is dead empty on a Friday night. At any rate, a nice, homey kind of evening.

Friday I stayed in and made some shrimp scampi. I did finally go out near midnight to visit with C. and the Young One down at the secret bar. Of interest was the long text message conversation the Young One and I had (yes, while in the same room) about one of my acquaintances who, despite the fact that his girlfriend was sleeping on the secret bar’s couch, sent a text to the Young One asking her out. Yeah, try to give advice on that one.

Oh, and almost forgot, Saturday was my younger son’s First Confession (or whatever we Catholics are calling it nowadays). Favorite quote of the day: “Look at me! I’m sin-free!”

Thursday kind of sucked though now that I think about it. I took a half hour nap at five that ended at 8:15. 45 minutes after I was supposed to have met Ms. Hold ‘Em at the secret bar. Then, the moment I got there was when she started dealing cards. So all the talking we got to do were two or three cigarettes worth and a couple more minutes at the end of the night. What’s worse, Mr. Asshole was playing cards and sitting right next to her and clearly flirting all night. I seriously am considering having the Sicilian give him a friendly talking to. It’s always fun to see people shit their pants.

Yes, indeed. That will be fun.

I Go Out on Friday Night

December 6, 2007

“I go out on Friday night and I go home on Saturday morning…” 

So, anyway, as I mentioned at the end of the last post, I dragged through my day of work on Friday on two hours of sleep. Note to self: never, never, ever, never do that again. And after work only had the opportunity for the briefest of naps. So, of course I’m sure you’re thinking–Mr. Setback, your date with Ms. Hold ‘Em is Saturday night, so Friday will be the perfect night to try to un-do some of the damage that this lack of sleep the previous night has no doubt done to your sorry body. You would think.

So, I decided that, while I wanted to be in bed early, I also wanted to visit with C. and his girlfriend and the Young One, you know, a couple of hours early in the night just to say hi. So I got there at eight and repeatedly mentioned to C. about how I was tired and only staying a short while. He laughed at me and said, “you’re helping me close tonight.” I laughed at his foolishness and went off to talk to some friends, eventually getting into a discussion with the Young One about Tattoo Guy and about Ms. Hold ‘Em–and it was interesting in a lot of ways. Hearing a different perspective on what happened the night before, hearing a surprising perspective on Ms. Hold ‘Em and me, just having a nice conversation all and all. At one point, Short Guy (who is a fairly obnoxious and really short drunken guy who alternately says nasty things and tries to hit on women) came over and hit on the Young One. She pointed to me and said: “Can’t you see I’m with someone.” He apologized but he looked awfully confused, having just seen me with Ms. Hold ‘Em the night before. On a related note, while we were still talking, another guy brought over a beer for the Young One. To his credit he seemed like a nice enough person and all, but I still wondered why no one was thinking we could at least possibly be together–at the very least think I’m her dad or whatever. Anyway, she thanked him but said that she was sorry she had a boyfriend (this time she meant her real boyfriend who wasn’t there that evening) and he walked away in that manner of men who made the supreme sacrifice by taking a shot with a beautiful stranger and in the end had to retreat, defeated.

Okay, so with all these small stories, I’m sure you’ve guessed that it was hitting 2 o’clock before I knew it. C., at some point in the evening had offhandedly said to a few of us that whoever lasted longest would win sometihng. Although I never dreamed it would be me, in fact, of the four or five people he said it to I indeed was the last one standing. So, tired out of my mind I headed home, painfully aware of the early basketball game staring me in the face Saturday morning…

more soon…