June 2004 Archives
June 14, 2004
New Names, or: What Ever Happened to Gina?
“So who is this girl?” my sister’s boyfriend, Jack, asked after my sister and I had an extended conversation about Lucy during dinner.
“Just Lucy,” I said.
“No, no, no,” he said. “This whole name thing isn’t working for me — I’m never gonna remember who they are. I need descriptions.”
“Well, she’s my best friend,” I responded.
“Are you retarded?” Jack asked.
I thought of answering with a truthful “yes,” but said nothing instead.
“What I want is a sentence-long description of this person so I know who the hell you’re talking about,” Jack said and turned toward Tracey, my sister, who is more used to this type of thing than I am.
“Let’s see,” Tracey began. “Girl who my parents think he’s bagging but he’s not bagging her at all because she’s in Iowa and —”
“Okay,” Jack said. “Unbaggable Chick. Done.”
Hrm.
“What about that Australian girl?” Tracey asked. “I mean, the one Mom said you were going to go to Australia with because you really wanted to get into her pants.” She was referring to Gina, and apparently I never blogged about our plans to disappear off to Australia and find jobs in the film industry there, because it’s much more pleasant than Hollywood.
“That’s not true,” I said.
“What ever happened to her?” she asked.
“I don’t really want to talk about it that much,” I said.
“You didn’t declare your love to her, did you?” Tracey asked.
Jeez. I haven’t done much love-declaring since my more optimistic high school days. (Note: It didn’t work.)
As I tried to formulate all the ways in which Tracey’s ancient assessment of me was totally wrong, she added, “You did, didn’t you? Jesus.”
“No, I didn’t,” I explained. “Quite the opposite, in fact. Althought it was more a declaration of lust than love.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“We got way too close, I spent more time with her than anybody else on the planet, and I insist there was some transference going on there, because she’d always talk about how much I reminded her of her boyfriend,” I explained. “We spent some time apart for awhile, then met up again, and I guess whatever was there came back, and bad things started to happen. I said, ‘But you have a boyfriend’ —”
“NO!” Jack screamed. “Wrong fucking answer.”
“— and she said, ‘I know,’ and I said, ‘That’s really not a problem for me’ &mdash”
“Good,” Jack amended.
“— ‘However, I think we’ll both regretting this.’”
“Goddammit,” Jack said. “I think she’s the one you need to be going after.”
“Well,” I said, “aside from the infidelity, she was arguably the most normal girl who’s admitted to wanting to have sex with me.” This is true, and I’m still sort of frustrated with my brain always assuming control of me whenever my penis (as portrayed by Burt Reynolds) should be at the helm. I still believe she would’ve regretted it and we never would’ve spoken to each other again, but now we have brief, awkward conversations when we run into each other at school, as if something had happened. Would it be better to not talk to her at all but still have had sex with her? Yes. Yes, it would.
“You gotta toss your eggs back in the Australia Girl’s basket. You gotta call her every day. Invite her out here,” Jack said.
“She doesn’t return my calls anymore,” I said. “Sometimes she’ll pick up and say she’s been really busy and she’s sorry, but after awhile you sorta start to think that’s a crock of shit.”
“Call her from here. She won’t know the number, and when she finds out it’s you, she’ll be intrigued,” Jack said. It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, but maybe he’s right.
“What about Coffee-Pizza Girl?” Tracey interrupted.
She was referring to this decently cute girl who hit on me when I was getting coffee at this pizzeria at Pike Place. I was wearing a Rilo Kiley t-shirt, and she started asking me all about the other bands Jenny Lewis sings for. I really am not all that knowledgeable, but I whipped out, “Oh, I think she sings on the Postal Service album,” and she was like, “That’s such a great album,” and we sort of grinned awkwardly at each other. It’s a moment. A moment! Man, the women in Seattle must be hard up if somebody that attractive could create a moment with someone like me.
But it’s totally weird asking some random barista out, or trying to get a phone number, in the middle of the most crowded shopping center in the history of the universe with 95 people breathing down your neck. It’s also totally weird that my sister would bring her up out of nowhere, although it’s not like I hadn’t been casually thinking about it myself.
I said as much, but Tracey suggested things I’d been thinking about myself, “Catch her near the end of her shift, get her to talk to you, then ask if she wants to go somewhere afterward.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jack, who suggested I intrigue somebody who won’t talk to me by calling from a different area code, muttered.
Would I do that? I dunno. Part of the purpose of this summer was to have one of those Saved by the Bell-esque flings with the daughter of the fat bald guy who owns the beach resort I’m working at with my friends Screech and Slater.
I suppose we’ll see.
Posted by Stan on June 14, 2004 11:22 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | Stories of Hilarity and Humiliation
Seattle!
Hey, all. I’m just checking in the blog-front after I realized I haven’t posted in over two weeks. During that time, I lounged around a lot, spent some time as a social butterfly, and abandoned my home for life in sunny Seattle! Consequently, I have had no stories of even remote interest to tell. Boring parties and get-togethers, followed by my sister and her boyfriend, who are sadly the most normal people I know. They don’t do anything amusing or stupid or irritating; they merely exist.
I’m adjusting here nicely. The weather’s fine; it’s cloudy almost all the time, but it rarely rains. Perfect. I’m having some problems adjusting to the hilly environment; it is not pedestrian-friendly, and I have no car. But hey, if I keep making epic journeys up and down hills all the time, maybe I’ll be in some reasonable shape by the time I get back. It’s doubtful but entirely possible.
I still have no job, and it looks like the three separate jobs my sister guaranteed me to entice me to come out have all fallen through. She’s a lying sack of shit, that sister of mine. Oh well, at least I’m out here now. And with literally nothing to do all day, I’m able to actually — gasp! — relax.
Hopefully I’ll start meeting people soon. Expect an entirely new Stan Has Issues™. Gone are the days when I spent all my time and concern on Lucy’s problems and my mom’s lunacy and Owen’s retardosity; for the next three months, there will be a completely different social circle, but I can assure you that while the faces may have changed, the problems will be just the same (that was, for those of you who picked up on it, a Strangers With Candy shout-out).
See you when I get a life!
- Stan
Posted by Stan on June 14, 2004 8:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | Random Musings
