Shaking my head, rubbing my eyes, tuning my ears into the growing sounds of Sportscenter, I woke up. My first thought being: "I fell asleep after all." My second: "Dammit, on the couch." The dull ache in my back wasn't enough to get me off my butt -- certainly going back to sleep would have been my preference. Clint had to be up by 11:30am, he said. It was 11:45am.
Opening the door, he shouted through sleep, "I already took a shower!"
It was great information to have and it made me so happy to hear it.
I really dislike sugar substitutes. Like onions, I've often used lame statements about being allergic or it being somehow terribly unhealthy, but now that I'm a grown up, I should be honest. I dislike onions and sugar substitutes -- damn the consequences.
With a pot of coffee at my disposal, I can accomplish many things. Like the above mini-rant. I saw a packet of Splenda and realized it was time for the world to know how I feel about such things. I threw in onions as a bonus.
It's hard to calmly wait for the coffee to cool off just enough to take that first big swig. There it is in all it's glory. I know what's waiting for me and I fantasize about what's around the corner. The stunning jolt of liquid alive, that moment when my eyes grow an inch wider. It's like love but not like chocolate.
I met Marissa yesterday. She's a lady of the "geek machine", a MySpace baroness. I hesitate to reveal too much but I will say she's a real huggable gal with a radiant smile, long but even toes, a giant pink Care Bear and soul. Not necessarily Blues Brothers soul, but the long and hard-fought variety of soul that is far too rare. Personality. Interesting. And so blazin' hot I got a tan.
We talked and I enjoyed myself. Reserved and holding back but terribly comfortable. Nothing like I've known her all my life -- nothing like that. Similiar, I guess. I think she's just very comfortable with herself and I liked that. I felt like we were friends when I walked up to her. Thank you, Marissa. Let's do it again soon.
Clint invited his older brother to dinner who invited his wife and baby. I don't know why because she was miserable. Chose to be miserable, refused to be anything but miserable. Not being the most calloused guys in the world, we took turns trying to pry her out of the shadows. She returned the favor by moving further and further away. Literally. First she sat down the bar from us. Then at the table behind us. Finally in the chairs across the room reserved for people waiting on a table. Even the bartender tried to help. But that's Amy. Amy's cool. Patronize Amy at Shoki's. Eat sushi, gyoza and kani su. It's good.
There was no "getting my drink" on last night. In fact, I was so ill I didn't want to be out but I stayed out because I wanted to be out. I needed to be, truthfully. So I had a lot of Co'Cola.
Liz Reed's was hotter than a mother fucker. Not in a good way. Maybe in a good way if metalcore, hardcore, etc., is your bag. It isn't mine. I'm too old and it's too loud. I did compliment a few of the guys on their ability to scream. Despite our differences, I am able to recognize talent.
There were many people there whose faces made me smile. There were many people there who somehow through the power of aura and numeric majority made me frown. Again, it was very hot there. Clint got drunk because he was here for fun. He of the tucked in Hilfiger shirt. I love that man. It never dawned on me to remind him that we weren't going to South Beach. Regardless, he can get along with anyone who choses not to be a dick or a bitch.
Oh but I was getting worse and he was getting louder, wanting to go somewhere else. We sauntered down the streets looking for new and exciting action trying to pretend there was new and exciting action to be found. Not downtown, let's go somewhere else.
Where do you want to go?
I don't care, man. Where do YOU want to go?
And so on.
I vetoed the Cafe Erotica because I didn't want to explain to my boss -- should I happen upon him there -- how I could miss four days of work yet make it to Warner Robins to see the four naked, mediocre ladies closing down the shift at our local titty bar. We made it to Loco's but the cars parked there were enough to annoy me. I refused to walk inside. Something inside me said no.
In truth, I was praying for our bi-annual trip to Waffle House where we were bound to sit and chat for a few hours before calling it a night. Not yet... no, no, no.
At Rivalry's, the doorman informed us that it'd be $4 a head. I balked, looked at Clint who wasn't proving any more decisive than before, and heard the bouncer explain that he was charging until 1:30am -- fifteen minutes away. "We'll wait. Thanks, boss."
Clint lit up a cigar he stole from my glove box despite not being a smoker in over a year. It was still better than him chomping on it with the plastic wrap still on, which is how it'd been in the half hour from Liz Reed's. Out of nowhere, the doorman said, "Hey guys. I'll tell you what. Give me five bucks and you can both go in."
I laughed. At Smiley's, that sort of waffling is allowed and okay, but it usually means you're getting a worse deal than you thought. "No, that's alright. We'll wait another ten minutes."
Five minutes later, he waved us over and told us to go inside. And let me say, thank god we didn't pay a dime to get in there. No open pool tables, a shitty band on stage and the very best of Macon's barflies staggering around. We left soon after taking a piss and talking to a chick we'd both been to school with.
Everyone's been married. Everyone's got a baby... or two. Some are working on their divorces. Sometimes I feel like I left here in the nick of time. What a smug fucking thing to say, Chris. Don't worry, I've already slapped my stupid ass. Could have more than easily been me and with the same stars in my eyes.
Finally, Waffle House. The only thing of note here is that the waitress -- who usually rocks -- sucked ass. I asked very simply for a decaf coffee, water, double bacon cheese burger no plate (i.e. no hashbrowns). Clint -- who can be disgusting -- ordered triple hashbrowns covered with cheese and soaked in chili, four eggs, grits and toast.
I got a coffee (which I suspect was regular as I was up past 6am watching the day break through the window), no water, double bacon cheese with hashbrowns (which I ate). Clint just got triple hashbrowns and one slice of cheese to cover it all. Eventually things were set right and we got into our discussions on life and living it. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
Blah, blah, blah. And here I am now. The coffee lives in me and I want to do something fun now. I want to go to the movies. Hmmmm.
Peace and respect.
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