The neighbors upstairs were so loud last night that they had to blast U2 at maximum decibels in the middle of the night. That compelled me to crawl out of my rather bacheloresque sleeping bag and perform 100 elevated push ups just to get warm (the heater is not working). At 4.30 am I had to ring their doorbell - I can take only so much of Bono this early in the am. I hate to confuse people with technical jargon, but sometimes I just gotsta [sic!]. I believe the term is coitus interruptus. Cry me a river, yo.
I was admiring this girl from afar for a while, but I was unavailable at the time. Lo and behold, I run into her in a bar last night. I was just going into my favorite neighborhood watering hole (please pardon the cliche) for a quick drink and there she was. Since she used to work there, I got hooked up with two free beers and some chips with salsa. In return, I had to listen to her incessant stream of consciousness about nursing, happiness, Sacramento, pot and, finally, her boyfriend. As soon as I hear words like boyfriend, girlfriend and/or husband, I just grab the proverbial ejection handle and pull it in a rapid, decisive manner, lest I hesitate and do the wrong thing.
Just when I felt like this spring was passing me by, as I put in 12 hour days 7 days a week at work, a graduate student I had a class with recognized me in said bar. Needless to say, the student is a small Asian [gay] male with napalmed skin, but he speaks fluent Russian, Chinese and French; his dissertation is on ... get this ... dreams in Chinese literary realism and I simply must hear all about it over lunch. Well, fuck me standing, bring it on - he is the best thing I got going on right now.
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madeinmoscow) wrote,
