If you haven't been beginning to pick up by now, every weekend passes by not unlike the last. Thursday night, Fever. Friday night, Finny's. Saturday night, Finny's again. Five days later, the cycle repeats. Recently, every night at the bars is beginning to blend into any other night at the bars-- save one or two details that I perceive make the night unique, if only for that one fleeting moment before the start of a new week takes control of my mind. From that which I have already told you, you are familiar with the time and the place. You are familiar with the characters. I will even venture to say that you are familiar with the conclusion. It is in the details, however, that I hope you will find something new to consider.
On Friday night I left Finny's to go to Carrie's. Ryan and Chaz were there, and Laurie, Ryan's family friend from out-of-town. After a while, I drove everyone to CJ's, and we ultimately ended up back at Finny's. Ryan and I are closer now than ever. Close, but not too close. I like that. Carrie asked him if Laurie was his sister, and he countered with a fierce, "No, Carrie! Just because we both have blonde hair, you assume that we're siblings?!" In her defense, I responded, coupled with an exaggerated eye-roll, "No, not siblings. But dating...yes." And then, as could be expected only of Ryan, he exploded into a huff of self-righteous ramblings, and demanded that I sit down and listen to him name all of the reasons why he does not "hair-color discriminate" when hooking up with a girl. And by name all of the reasons, I mean name all three of the brunettes he had been with in his lifetime, kindly ending with, "And you're probably the lightest brunette of the three, babe." "Scratch me off of the list NOW," I insisted with a smile. "Hooking up with me, does not count!" He was thus reduced to two brunettes. A weak argument if you ask me. When I found out that he hooked up with Laurie on Saturday night, my only response was, "Case and point," to which he, of course, had nothing to add.
In order to talk about Saturday, I first have to admit that I didn't want to have to bring him into my story-- what I like about recounting my life on paper is that I can construct the me that I let you see by choosing the details of my daily life to share. I do not want him to be one of these details; but he has made himself unavoidable, as he has been doing so since that one night in London when we walked home together from Chinatown, hand-in-hand, and then...
On Friday night I left Finny's to go to Carrie's. Ryan and Chaz were there, and Laurie, Ryan's family friend from out-of-town. After a while, I drove everyone to CJ's, and we ultimately ended up back at Finny's. Ryan and I are closer now than ever. Close, but not too close. I like that. Carrie asked him if Laurie was his sister, and he countered with a fierce, "No, Carrie! Just because we both have blonde hair, you assume that we're siblings?!" In her defense, I responded, coupled with an exaggerated eye-roll, "No, not siblings. But dating...yes." And then, as could be expected only of Ryan, he exploded into a huff of self-righteous ramblings, and demanded that I sit down and listen to him name all of the reasons why he does not "hair-color discriminate" when hooking up with a girl. And by name all of the reasons, I mean name all three of the brunettes he had been with in his lifetime, kindly ending with, "And you're probably the lightest brunette of the three, babe." "Scratch me off of the list NOW," I insisted with a smile. "Hooking up with me, does not count!" He was thus reduced to two brunettes. A weak argument if you ask me. When I found out that he hooked up with Laurie on Saturday night, my only response was, "Case and point," to which he, of course, had nothing to add.
In order to talk about Saturday, I first have to admit that I didn't want to have to bring him into my story-- what I like about recounting my life on paper is that I can construct the me that I let you see by choosing the details of my daily life to share. I do not want him to be one of these details; but he has made himself unavoidable, as he has been doing so since that one night in London when we walked home together from Chinatown, hand-in-hand, and then...
