ramble through the bronx

Thursday, February 26, 2004

You must remember this...

... a kiss is just a kiss....

On Monday night... no, wait, I'll do this properly. On Monday afternoon,* I was in a wretched mood. Just wretched. Anxious, distracted, unable to focus on philosophy, going round and round in my head about being a useless human being, that I'd alienated all my friends, etc., etc. That sort of thing. More, of course, a product of insufficient vegetables and exercise rather than real psychological trauma, but, still, unpleasant.

The one thing I thought in Particular was that it had been a long time since any one looked at me, you know, as a hetersexual-non-celibate-man or a homosexual-non-celibate woman looks at a woman. It had been a long time since I'd been able to be flirtatious with anyone, a long time since there'd been any cause for fun innuendo. Basically, a long time since that whole part of myself had in any way shape or form been operative. I'd been a walking-talking-drinking-sexless-automaton. (Or so I thought, in my Monday mood).

Then, of course, plans were arrived at to go down to The Living Room to hear some music, after which there were plans to head over to Arlene's Grocery for Punk Rock Heavy Metal Karaoke Night. My mood, of course, improved with good company and good music (Josh Thomas's friend Dawn Kinnard, who was great). Oh, and red wine never hurts either.

So, after two glasses of wine, I noticed a Cute Boy sitting at a table by himself listening to the second band, Ursa Minor. I asked my companions, "Should I be bold?" "Yes," they said, "yes you should be bold." "I will be bold," said I.

I walked past his seat, leaned over and asked if he wanted a drink, and he (looking somewhat surprised), said sure.

I bought two glasses of wine, came back, put one on his table, he gestured for me to sit down, I did so, conversation was struck up.

Lovely!

We ended up grabbing a slice of pizza after leaving The Living Room, and he even came out to the Karaoke (now that's style). We stayed at Arlene's Grocery for a bit (and both danced! wa-hey!), then walked out, exchanged numbers, and went our separate ways.

Oh, and we kissed. In public. At Arlene's. On the street. It was kinda fun.

Y'all know me -- I never do this sort of thing! So I discovered how easy this all is. And fun! Did I say fun? There's no reason to shut off my flirtatious side. When I'm feeling surrounded by Jesuits and married men, there really ARE places to go. It's not hopeless.

Anyway, in answer to (presumably somewhere in your head) your questions, no, of course he hasn't called, but really, isn't that the point? One lovely little interlude of fun. Hey, if he ever calls, that'll be neat, but really, the kiss, the one night, the one act -- that was enough.

So fun is to be had in NYC, and not everyone is a Jesuit.

Thank you, the end.


* Post-laundry-with-Ana, which was reasonably lovely, for being laundry.

jane 9:23 PM [+]