Friday, April 24, 2009

How Most of these So-Called Gangstas Pass

And now, the latest installment of "How Weird Can Rachel's Dating Life Get?"
This week has been a busy one, starting with the trauma of dear Sam's Club (ok, we can call him Adrian again, because I'm not currently updating the blog on myspace, and because I doubt very much he'd read them anyway) sending me the creepy "I Love You" animated texts, and progressing to frustration with Jack's ambivalence. I shouldn't be surprised, though, because nothing in my social life ever turns out just the way I'd expect.
Last night was good for a dose of the unexpected, I must say. First off, Lou let me know as I was getting ready to leave that Jack wasn't coming. Now, this in and of itself is NOT eyebrow-raising. He doesn't know me, but I'm used to boys canceling on me. Do I like it? No (unless it is Jack, whose ambivalence I apparently mirror), but I didn't let it get me down. I always enjoy time with Lou, though, and her little pal Chris isn't so bad either. He's actually a nice chap, though he forgot himself and his manners at the end of our dinner last night and tried to snag a birthday kiss from me. He was rewarded not with a peck, but instead me screaming in his face. Sorry, brotha. I don't kiss my girls' men, unless it's in one of our large-group games of Spin-the-Bottle. He looked disappointed, Lou looked annoyed (and honestly, who wouldn't be, when their chump of a dear friend forgets he is merely a man and not Matt Lauer, so therefore, is not worthy of extra-comradely bussing) and I am sure I looked dumbfounded. Though I am proud to be an expert in the field of osculation, I am not without scruples and guiding principles for whom and under what circumstances I apply my gift.
Aside from that small hiccup, the early part of the evening was quite enjoyable. We had dinner at the Independence Grill, where the food is good (though about 25 percent overpriced, I'd say) and the service is terrible. Our waitress was too busy drinking soda at the bar to attend to her customers. Plus, the place was frigid. Those looking for a place to take their next date can probably cross it off their list. Still, Lou and Chris and I enjoyed ourselves, and I couldn't help thinking again how lovely it is to have friends to do things with, even on a Thursday night.
Of course, dinner can't (and certainly shouldn't) last forever, so it wasn't long before we were saying goodbye and I was off to run a few miscellaneous errands. Of course, that was also about that magical time of night when Adrian's texts start arriving in great volume and frequency. Turns out, he lives right in the neighborhood, so we decided to go out to Sonic for a little quality time.
As my faithful readers know, this meeting was all at once nerve-wracking, necessary, and easier than putting off the inevitable. Honestly, I like Sam's Club (the store) too much to only shop at Costco. I figured this was was the easiest to discharge my responsibility of going out with Adrian (after all, I told him I would), without wasting a lot of his time and money. Also, because Sonic is relatively well-lit, and I was going to make him sit in MY car (for safety reasons), I knew I'd probably feel safe. Still, that didn't keep me from calling several friends to say were I to turn up missing, I'd last be with Adrian. A girl's gotta cover her bases, you know.
And again, I was pleasantly surprised. Very good things about my friend A: He is very funny. One of my favorite comments of the evening was when he looked at my car and said, "Wow, this thing is huge. It makes me feel even smaller" and when the police drove by, "It's a good thing your car is so big. I could hide all over the place in here." He effectively put me at ease, and I think he'll fit snugly into the friend category, where I'd truthfully wanted him all along. Yes, he's cute and fun, but perhaps the best thing was that I realized he's also kind of ghetto! Seriously. The guy went to Valley High School, which is one step up from West Mesa and Rio Grande, perhaps on par with Highland or Los Lunas, and one step down from say, Sandia. I don't know why I didn't put it all together before. Maybe because you don't normally see guys in "Korn" hats these days unless they're trying to be ironic. But when he took off his enormous sweatshirt to show me some of his tattoos, I realized better who I was dealing with. He's not wearing these clothes because he's small-- he does it because he's tough (he also told me he'd let me beat him up, though I don't really know why that came up). At the same time, his toughness has a touch of "Malibu's Most Wanted"-- his tats include a tribute to Disney's Captain Jack Sparrow and The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Seriously, he's funny and just awesome. And not at all who I want for a boyfriend. Mostly because we don't have much in common. OK, I'll be honest. It's mostly because of the animated text messages. But I get them now. Talk to this guy for five minutes and you'd say, "Of course he sends you a picture of a purple fairy to tell ya you're loved." Still, he's a perfect addition to my social life, adding spice where once things were bland (once Jacob said he'd like to be garlic or cumin; I think Adrian is ginger-- not as sweet as you'd think, but packs a powerful punch in small doses).
So in the numbers game, would-be 96 became 97; former 97 still hasn't asked me out, but the two-day obsession is over; new 96 is a comfortable back-up, but I'm still in love with 88 and intrigued by 93. I think. My list of former-flames is stored in another location. Whatever. Bring on #98, so long as it isn't Jack.

1 Comments:

At April 25, 2009 at 7:24 AM , Blogger Sokphal said...

Glad your meeting went well!!! Haha! A gangsta midget! I love it!

 

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