The theme of today is me having to do things I really don't want to do. This of course is not really different from any other day, except when these days are Fridays you take extra notice. It started off with the traditional undesirable activitity of coming to work. Everyday it's a dilemma whether to get off the F train at Jay St. and switch to the A. They both stop at West 4th St., my work destination, and the only difference is that the A stop is upstairs and the F is downstairs. They almost always get there in the same time. Today, as usual, I stayed on the F, and was cursing myself minutes later as we sat at Delancey St., stalled with some mechanical problem. But really interesting bit to come out of the ride was the appearance of this woman standing by the door. She kept reaching into her bag at a very rapid rate, and eating something. At first I thought she was tearing off little pieces of bread, which would've still been a little odd given her bag to mouth delivery method, but totally acceptable. But as I stared closer it became clear that she wasn't eating bread at all. She was eating lettuce. Out of one of those ready-made salad bags you get in the supermarket. With her hands. Like a fucking rabbit. Just sitting there, and probably making about 15 trips into the bag every ten seconds, her hand darting in and out of the Dole salad mix. It was so weird. Last week I saw these kids on a school bus looking goofier than anything I'd ever seen, and I wish I'd had my camera. So now I carry it all the time. So I decided to needed to film this woman's salad eating craziness. I wasn't particularly stealthy about it, but I tried to conceal the filming as best I could. So it's shaky and only about three seconds long, but I managed to get enough video to kind of capture the scene. But here's a picture of this peculiarity:
So anyway, once I got off the train, I thought about going to the gym today. I really didn't want to go, but just told myself I had no choice in the matter. Once at work, I really needed to eat something, but denied myself of that. Then I had to sit around and learn a bunch of different procedures, which I really wasn't in the mood for and had I real problem keeping my eyes open for. Then I had to postpone lunch and go to the gym, which I did not want to do at all. Got back from the gym and stuffed myself sick on fried race. And here I am. Where I do not want to be. After I leave here, I have to go home, and do laundry, which I don't want to do. Then go over to Jen K's house for a little dinner party. I like Jen K a lot. Tons. More than I like most people. But I'm really not in the mood to go, and I feel like I'm being guilted into it. I just want to go home, play guitar, maybe take a nap, and hang out. I don't want to do what I don't want to do when I don't have to.Anyway, so yesterday after work, I met Rodzilla at the Grey Dog's Coffee shop right down the street from my office, over on Carmine St. She was feeling particularly, to use her word, giddy. Something about her sweater and feeling warm. I myself was feeling rather piqued. Not sleeping much. We had coffee and then I had to go to my guitar lesson. After a surprisingly ok lesson, I met up with Rodzilla again, and we looked for a bar. We ended up at Googies in the West Village, where I'd been once with some people from NYU. It looked crowded and we weren't going to go in, but as we were walking past I saw my old roommate Aaron sitting in the front. So I made some obscene gesture or something by the window until he looked. So we went in, sat down, drank, and had a generally good time. I hadn't seen Aaron in many months now. I just found out a few weeks ago that he moved from Brooklyn to Queens. His building was being condemned or something. He was at a little farewell party for a co-worker of his, which ended up good for us, because they ended up buying almost all the beer. Of course, I bought the first round, then when Rodzilla went to get the next, they just let us put it on their tab. Typical. It doesn't really bother me, but it's amazing how often that happens when I'm out with Rodzilla. Really, it's uncanny. Somehow, someway, she always manages to get something for free, or make someone do something special for her. It's almost creepy. Anyway, also typical is her saying she's only going to have one drink. Sometimes this is true. Often it is not. And you know, I don't know why I still believe her when, while hoisting the glass that contained her fourth pint of beer, she says "How are you feeling? I feel fine." I always believe her. After all this time. It's really quite ridiculous. Shortly after that, she managed to out a gay man and get into a rather heated argument with Aaron's boss. It got ugly real quick. I was going to say "debate" but "argument" really suits it better. there wasn't a real calm discussion or exchanging of ideas. And in fairness, she didn't really "out" the guy, but it was just lucky for her that he was already out. She was saved on a technicality. It's funny, because not an hour before, Aaron was discussing his ex-roommate, and how closeted he is. He was also sort of a friend of Rodzilla's from school, and she said she'd like to get his number. Aaron was more than happy to oblige, but warned her not to get drunk and mention that we'd had this long conversation about how gay he is. Rodzilla sort of took offense to this and was rather shocked. But then, there she was, speaking frankly to this guy she just met about his homosexuality. She thought no one else knew, and felt terrible.
Right before I grabbed her as she slipped down the subway steps, Rodzilla said to me, somewhat indignantly, "Oh God, you're going to put this all over your webpage, aren't you?" I told her no, not if she didn't want me to. And I meant it. It's just that it's late now, and I kind of forgot. And we talked about it today, and it's funny. But I'll end that little tale. But it was a fun night. The first time in a while I've bumped into anybody I know randomly on the New York streets. Coincidentally, I think the last time it happened was over the summer, and it was also Aaron I ran into.
Aaron, Rodzilla, and myself, at Googie's. Before the chaos ensued.
A candle surrounded by peanut shells. Sort of a Marth Stewart centerpiece for slobs in bars.
