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When Will It Come?
 
 



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post #70
bio: kristen
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4/27/2005
23:00

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Dutch Ultimatum
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Friday Party #347
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Leap and the Net Will Appear

I am eating again. Eating like I do when I'm of no mind to care. Last night, it was pizza, fried rice, and four cookie dough things. Fuck it.

This is a thing that happened to me a long long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... perhaps there will be two things. I don't know yet, as I haven't written it yet.


The second thing:

I will remember this until I am an elderly lady (if I get "lucky"
enough to be old):

I was going out with a group of girls. They weren't my usual crew. It was a girls night out. (I was in the entrails of a stupid, dead, tragic relationship.) Wildness was in the air. These girls were easy and whore-ish in the best way and fun.

I am a black hole.

But not this night. Not this night children.

I was stoned (fuck the 'faded' term that the kids today say). I had had a big tall boy when I hadn't been drinking much lately. We entered the bar.

The ladies went for drinks as I secured a table.

These were ladies who liked those horoscope rolls that you get in the supermarket check-out lines. I had purchased the correct one for girl #1, but I didn't know girl #2 as well and guessed her sign and was off by one. The table was next to the cute and reading bouncer. I considered it a funny coincidence that the spare roll in my purse was his sign, and thusly gifted him. We were jadedly amused.

The beers arrived at the table. We were drinking them.

I noticed a group of silly men across the way. They were all dressed in black tee shirts. The girls liked boys, so I thought it would be amusing to check it out.

When I am stoned, I often get 'what-the-fuckish'. I what-the-fuckedly was returning from procuring the second round o'bier. It was my turn.
The bouncer was coming towards the bar, and in passing I asked him if the guys were weirdos or OK. He said they seemed OK.

I placed beers on the table and locked eyes on one.

He looked like Mr. Burns a bit, but impish, young, and spryly intelligent. This was my first impression. My devil-may-care attitude forthwith brought me to strike up a conversation with said table. It was a sparse saturday night for the bar, and they were the only action going.

After sparring a bit, I judged them interesting. They could give as good as I gave. I rather liked them. My pick-up line with the lads was that we whores had thought they were in a band.

They promptly made up some lies. The one in the flowered cowboy shirt was the lead singer. Dustin was the road manager. Rich was the glockenspiel, and the one for me was the bass player. The drummer was getting laid or drunk somewhere.

At the time, I was in a bass player mode. I vacillate between drummers and bass players. Ah the rhythm section....

I called that gals over. They took their time as they were chatting up the bouncer. I took this time to give the lads the rundown on the whores. I wanted everyone to be happy.

The bass player was intriguing. I rather changed my opinion of him a bit. I ratcheted it up several notches. He seemed quite intelligent and gentle and other-worldly. I lived in the moment and promptly let him into my usually windowless fortress.

The devil may care.

I kissed the bass player. This is generally the second stage with me.
I had experience somewhat at this stage in my life. I knew how to quickly get the information and to quickly process it. The kiss changed it all.

I fell in love.

Promptly.

It was the most gentle kiss I've ever experienced. Even to this day.
It shall be like describing a cloud when you are in a cloud, but I shall try for you my devoted reader: Poetry. The warmth matched mine exactly. The wit was behind the eyes, but the lips were unguarded.
The lips of the bass player loved me and didn't mind telling me. To my whorish mind, I felt on another dimension. When I kissed him, time stopped. Oh, I loved him.

It wasn't like we tongued in front of all the party and groped and shoved dignity to the wind. We were naughty children.

Of course when I called him....

He had given me a business card - slipped in an unread place. The next day, I read "I adore you. I am enamoured with you. Please call me."
or some such shit.

I called him. I loved him. (Of course I didn't love love him).

He mentioned something about how I was beautiful. I scared him with my aura. He wasn't ready to let anyone in his life at this point.

Stories I'm telling you.



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