he was strikingly handsome and confident and in control.
it was closing time and all the younguns were huddled on the curbs waiting for their rides to pick them up.
they were arguing because she wanted to head to her apartment real quick to take a leak and grab a sweater and he wanted to pick up his guy friend.
because i was raised right i told them both that i would drive to the lady’s house
because shes a lady and we as gentlemen should honor that.
fuckit if he gave me a one star rating.
as we waited outside her pad he explained to me what he was up to: they were headed to a hollywood hills after party and the friend was a buddy who had cocaine and he didn’t want to miss the chance to meet up with him.
meanwhile she was “just a” Tinder date. he had an exwife in town and an exgirfriend he still wasnt over who lived out of town.
as he told me these tales and showed me pictures on his phone of the beautiful women he was juggling, i couldnt but help thinking about katie’s post last week about how hard it is for a single girl to get a handsome man in LA to not be a selfish asswipe.
because it’s true. even if you’re not a handsome player, LA is awash in spectacular women of all sorts from all around the world who are down for whatever, because why not, we’re in LA.
i have no advice for anyone, for once. except for this: love is the most elusive butterfly. you never know where it will land or how long it will loiter there.
if you grab at it you might kill it, and if you think you’re clever enough to predict it’s next move you’re actually cray.
so just do your best to do the impossible: enjoy the crazy dance.
and if that’s hard, then enjoy the beautiful music playing.