Thursday, December 13, 2007

Heart like a cactus

1. The next time you are downstairs at the Cake Shop, if the bartender is a very young, very tall, burly gentleman of hispanic or latino origins, ask him to make a shot called the Chiparita (pronounced cheep-arita). It's a concentrated upscale high octane margarita and it will smack you across the room with tenderness.

This I had with the guy who used to be mine when he came into town last night. We sat in the bar and listened to Shipwreck, one of my favorite bands from Urbanana (I seriously love this band and such lovely people.) and I felt almost like I had stepped backwards in time.

It was an echo to another lifetime and the girl I was when I started first started loitering here.

She got drunk when she drank. Cause, there wasn't much else to do. In so many ways, they were not good times and yet I miss them.

It was no more than two years ago and yet it seems a lifetime ago.


2. LW and I were all set to reschedule our date. But made the mistake of revealing too much about ourselves online before our first face to face meeting. On the day of our date we were chatting online and he irritated me to an excessive degree. To the point where I told him that I didn't want to see him. I didn't care how cute or smart or funny he was. (his claims) I didn't care how good a kisser or lover he was. (his claims) And so perhaps due to the limited capacity that one has to communicate over IM, I cancelled my first date with the man of my dreams. But I seriously doubt that. His parting remark to me was "Good luck finding a guy who isn't an asshole."

Right.

Next!?!

3. I have a date tonight with Banjo Guy. Also met online. He doesn't tell me that he is funny. He has actually written and said funny things when we have chatted on the phone or IM. He has not promised me that he is smart, cute, a good kisser or a great lay. (shall I brace myself for the worst?) And he has not insisted that we schedule time to make out during this meet up, nor has he sent me any pictures of him self in his underwear. Of course, he as also mentioned that he has OCD qualities and can rant until the cows come home. We shall see.

4. The Men of New York keep calling me a crazy lady. I have no idea why.

5. I have deleted the Vine's number from my cell phone to stop myself from drunk dialing him. Oh. Maybe that's why.

3 Comments:

At 6:24 PM, December 13, 2007, Blogger C-Belle said...

Just leaving you a comment now that I've learned it's good blogging etiquette to do so!

Good luck with Banjo Guy!!!!

 
At 6:27 PM, December 16, 2007, Blogger Kat E said...

I had a similar yet opposite IM experience with a guy I met online once. We had an amazing IM conversation, where we learned we had a ton in common. But I refused to meet him because he was not attractive according to the pictures he'd posted of himself. Shallow, I know. I actually think IM can be a terrible way to have a conversation, especially if a lot of computer lingo & abbreviations start getting used. I can't stand that crap...

 
At 12:27 PM, December 17, 2007, Anonymous eh said...

1. Careful, dear. As Frank Zappa said, the two biggest impediments to human progress are paperwork and nostalgia.

2. "I didn't care how cute or smart or funny he was. (his claims) I didn't care how good a kisser or lover he was. (his claims)"

That putz needs to heed the old creative writing maxim: "show, don't tell"

Why is it that every New York guy thinks he's the Manhattan Fuck Machine™? Let me tell you, while the Manhattan Fuck Machine™ might tell you how good a lover he is, he'd do so in the context of merely stating a fact, not as a boast or advertisement.

Besides, last I heard the reigning M.F.M™ is a Hungarian photographer in his late 30s / early 40s who strikes up conversations with women on the subway and ends up bedding them that very evening. I'm also told that he is all that in the sack. Of course, that was 10 years ago, so the title may have passed on to someone else by now.

3. But he did post some kind of picture, right?

Reminds me of a conversation I overheard at the gym. A woman was telling her (female) physical therapist about a guy she met on the internet. His profile was well-written and funny, his pictures showed him to be movie-star handsome with six-pack abs, and he claimed to be a lawyer with a six-figure income. Upon meeting him, she discovered that it was all true. However, she also discovered he was 5'3".

"But my husband is only 5'7"," said the trainer. "I'm sure you could make things work. Do you wear heels?"

"Yes, two-and-a-half inch heels."

"Couldn't you get shorter ones?"

"Yes, but I don't want to!"

I say our friend Tom Cruise ought to move to Tokyo or Shanghai... I'm sure he'd do just fine over there.

4. They're just pricks, is all.

 

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