Tuesday, May 10, 2005

rejection is one thing, but rejection from a fool is cruel

It is just further proof that people who have both the time and the desire to sculpt their hair are not cool people, despite how cool those boys with Morrissey hairdos may look. People that look nice more often than not tend to be total or, at the very least, partial assholes. After getting a blowjob from that senior citizen yesterday, I gave Ryan, that boy I liked, a call and left a message telling him that he should come to the Metropolitan for dollar PBR's. A few hours later, he gave me a call back, saying he would be there. After I got off the phone with him, I let out a little shriek of excitement because I was that giddy to be talking to a crush, that I was going to meet a crush for drinks. I threw on a sweatshirt and speedwalked to Metropolitan so giddy, head totally in the clouds. And I'll foreshadow a bit here and tell you that this walk to the bar will serve in stark contrast to the walk home from the bar a few hours and countless beers later.

I got there and talked to him awkardly for maybe five minutes before his best girlfriend/roomate showed up and then the conversation became even more awkward, me trying to talk to two hip people who I didn't know at all and who have known each other forever. After about five minutes of really lackluster conversation, Zack came over and said hi to me. I talked to him for a long time and basically ditched those other two for the most part, much preferring the easy conversation I was able to have with Zack where we were talking over each other rather than thinking of what to say to each other. I occasionally went back and talked to the two of them even though it was very appearant that Ryan was not interested in me, that we were to be friends, if even. A couple of times he asked me if I knew certain cute boys that walked by, in the hopes that I could introduce him. I inwardly rolled my eyes because I wasn't upset just annoyed by this boy. Why even meet with me for drinks? I found myself going outside to smoke, to escape just about every five minutes. But it was okay because Zack was outside and he is awesome and made me laugh so much and people that have the ability to make you laugh are gold. Nothing better than easy conversation in this world. And there is almost nothing worse than labored conversation.

Okay, I was a little upset that Ryan was not into me but not in a maudlin way, just in a what the fuck way. He was so into himself, it was absurd. He told me that he wasn't going to call me, but that I should call him, but he wasn't going to pick up, he never does, but I should leave a message. Uh, yeah. At one point, he told me to email him about galleries on Thursday. I rolled my eyes and said, "Why wouldn't I just call you?" But the best part of the night was a half hour after he had told me he was leaving, I was on my way out the door and he was at the front of the bar talking to some people. I said bye to him. The Pixie's "Here Comes Your Man" came on. He introduced me to his two new friends as Christopher. I told them my name was Charlie. The two boys were confused. I didn't answer their questions. I danced to the song to the back of the bar to bitch to Zack some more.

But no, really, I think I just lied about what the best part of the night was, meaning of course, what the worst part of the night was. That would have to be when walking home, I realized I had lost my phone at some point during the evening. I went back there today and it is not there, so I am now without a phone until I get enough money to buy a new one, or until someone gives me their old T-Mobile phone. Oh yeah, I had an interview at Triple Five Soul today that did not go as horribly as I had imagined.

I've been listening to Morrissey all day, so happy even though last night wasn't so hot, but I don't even look it as awful, as funny how self-absorbed some people are. Thank god Zack was there. Having a Morrissey hairdo does not give you any of his coolness, not at all.

PS - I lost my fucking phone!!!! So e-mail me to hang out, or come out to karaoke tonight at Metropolitan and get trashed with me.

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