Wednesday, March 15, 2006

Allright, let's get down to brass tax. I'm here now, let's do this.

So, first and foremost I suppose I should tell you all about what has been consuming my brain since Saturday. Of course it's a boy ("mrs. walker, it's a boy"). No seriously, I am at a loss at the moment. Maybe y'all can help.

So, Let me set the scene: Club Cafe, 2006. A Young man walks outside with his friends (dressed impeccably in a brown suede blazer and dark denims). He spots a boy who made a "funny" comment earlier. Well, here's the thing, he commented on my back brace. See, (god- gay stories get so overly complicated) I was talking to this other guy Matt(who was too good-looking and pulled together for me) and said I had broken my back, when this dude and his gurl walked by and shout "Oh My God You Broke Your Back!!!!" Well I was mortified. I did that thing I tend to do where I get all red and my voice gets high (well, even higher) and embarassed. He immediately says he's kidding smooths it over and leaves. Whatever. I keep talking to Matt who clearly is not that nice. Time passes and I leave the bar. Outside as we're leaving, my friends are saying goodbye to people (they know like every third person in there- love that; makes me feel popular by association) and I spot "Brokeback Comment" Boy. So I approach to introduce and we find out we have the same name. Anyways he's an optometry student and my friends works at his school and he lives outside of Boston. All interesting things. So I said "Oh we should have lunch". This is the sort of thing I just say to people. It's not that I don't mean it- It's just my way of saying "We should hang out- time & date TBD". Such is not the way works and so my dear Andy asks me to take my number.

So on Tuesday when I call, He claims to not remember me. Well a vague rememberance which is fine. No one knows that game like me. I have woken up on the morning after with phone numbers of people I have no recollections of. People have come up to me in the street with knowledge of my whole family and I have no idea who they are. What I'm saying is, I'm a big drunk too. Work it out. Do your thing. So anyways we get to chatting, and inevitably we get off the telephone and go to IM. Which is OK at first because my cell phone sucks. But you know the drill, you sing on and get 16 IMs from old friends. And for a poor typer like me, it is just overwhelming. So, we become friends on Friendster and Myspace. All cool. But I am not IMing well, and I don't know. I suddenly get intimidated by him. I think pictures on Internet friend/date websites speak volumes. I have 3. And they're mostly of me and Miss Sarah. But he's got all good-looking friends and he's basically in Medical School. And the crazy thing is, I was not even interested- I thought oh, a fun new friend. But I think, ultimately this post is too long and I don't want to go on.

Let's just say this: My game's so tight my back can be broken and I still got it.

2 comments:

Sarah said...

basically in medical school? um, ridding the world of pinkeye does not a doctor make!

your game = way tight though. work it out!

Mr. & Mrs. Cappella said...

You are the cutest!! Ain't no one too good for YOU though!! No more of that silliness! ;-)
~Jeannie