1. Wednesday, November 2, 2005

    in the morning like now 

    the glare and the sun and the reflections haven’t woken up yet so I sit here on the office couch and I write to you. Hi you.

    If you notice some capitalization like I do don’t be alarmed. Im not being kidnapped and someone else isn’t writing this blog, its me. Sorry this is all you get.

    Last night I went on a date with a new girl. When it rains it pours. Another blonde. Typically im not into blondes but in LA you really cant be that picky about hair color, especially that hair color because blonde chicks are everywhere.

    Lets pretend that this girl looks like paris hilton but with tits. Not huge fake ones, but just some tits. Ive seen the paris video and she has something but you know what im saying, last nights girl actually could fill up a bra.

    Because I live a bizarre life, this girls first words last night were, you realize my last boyfriend died in a car crash. I was all, no I didn’t realize that, how on earth would I have been aware of that? And she said he was famous in the [world that he was famous in]. But I do not roam in those circles so I just said, uh huh and wondered if she had been set up with me because she needed a shoulder to cry on or a gentleman to romp with or someone to get drunk with. People set me up with girls all the time and theres generally a reason, as opposed to, “oh this is a hot babe, lets set her up with Tony.”

    So we sat there and she ate sushi and I ate shrimp whose tails I had to pull off myself for some reason. and the kool kids used their chopsticks and drank their fancy drinks and I just listened to her tell me about how much she loved this guy but that from early on she knew it wasn’t meant to be, and then all of a sudden he was gone and now she really misses him.

    And usually I can be super funny but I was looking for spots to jump in with a joke but they weren’t coming.

    Fortunately the waitress asked us if we wanted saki and I was all hell yes.

    And we started drinking.

    And she started crying. And then she asked if I would hold her hand and I was all, ok here we go. And she had the softest hands. And she was hot. And she had a short skirt. And she had a plunging blouse with a colorful bra that begged for attention but I just stared at her eyes fighting my peripheral vision. And losing.

    But she didn’t care so when she had finished sobbing I said.

    Ok are you ready to go on with your life?

    No.

    Ok now are you ready to go on with your life?

    No.

    Ok now are you ready for something other than crying and sadness and longing?

    And she didn’t say anything so I put my hand on her bare thigh.

    She sniffled.

    i said have you ever been on a date where the guy didn’t hit on you?

    She said no, and broke a smile.

    I said, have you ever made the first move on a dude before?

    She laughed and said no.

    So I removed my hand and looked up at the big paper umbrella hanging above us and started whistling quietly.

    And I heard a giggle, then a sniffle

    And then I felt a kiss on my cheek.

    And that’s why my fingers smell seafoody this morning.

    talking to strangers + the hotline + piette + terra