what is the word <$BlogRSDURL$>

what is the word

« ·´ ` · . ( * · . ¸ ( ` · . ¸ ¸ . · ´ ) ¸ . · * ) . · ´ ` · » « · ´ ¨ * · . ¸ ¸ . . ¸ ¸ . · * ¨ ` · » « · ´ ` · . ( ¸ . · ´ ( ¸ . · * * · . ¸ ) ` · . ¸ ) . · ´ ` · » « · ´ ` · . ( * · . ¸ ( ` · . ¸ ¸ . · ´ ) ¸ . · * ) . · ´ ` · » « · ´ ¨ * · . ¸ ¸ . . ¸ ¸ . · * ¨ ` · » « · ´ ` · . ( ¸ . · ´ ( ¸ . · * * · . ¸ ) ` · . ¸ ) . · ´ ` · » «· ´ ` ·. ( * · . ¸ ( ` · . ¸ ¸ . · ´ ) ¸ . · * ) . · ´ ` · » « · ´ ¨ * ·.

Friday, February 06, 2004

Met an unbelievably beautiful guy last nite, at Sweetwater of all places. Standing by the bar with my friend Gabe's sister Emily, I spotted him. He was playing pool. I actually kind of went slack-jawed for a moment. I came back to earth after a minute & I said to Emily, "I think I spy a cute boy."
"Where?" she said, turning around to see where I was looking. There were no less than fifteen guys in the room & I didn't even have to point him out.
"Oh..." she said.
He was very tall, ruddy-cheeked, wearing a sweatshirt & jeans. Something about him was Ashton Kutcher-ish. The perfect face, the laughing eyes, the messy brown hair. The girls ogling him from all sides.
But I wasn't going to let them stop me. The gin martini, half-carafe of sake, and nip of Bushmills I'd had earlier was doing its thing. I was feeling great. I went over to him & asked him if they were going by the list for pool. He said yes, so I put myself on it, & from then on just sort of attached myself to his general vicinity.
It worked. I wasn't even next for pool but he informed everyone that I was, & we ended up playing each other, hitting it off amazingly, & when I lost (scratched on the eight ball tho he had 4 balls still on the table) he made me his partner & we played some more. We smoked, he bought me a beer, he was funny & smart & everything was amazing. Never mind that I'm kinda sorta seeing someone at the moment ... I'm quite sure my kinda sorta boyfriend would make an exception for the female equivalent of this creature. We were outside smoking & he asked me if I was in school. I told him I'd finished and had a job. And then my Ashton revealed that he was in school, at Columbia. Grad school?, I asked. No, he replied. With a sinking feeling, I asked the question I now dreaded...
& here's where it all falls apart. It turns out he is NINETEEN.
Nineteen. As in, six years younger than me. As in, when I was his age, he was THIRTEEN. & yes, when I am ninety he will only be eighty-four, but he won't look like Ashton anymore either.
I think I said faintly, I have to go home now.
He laughed at that. It didn't bother him. I guess nothing does when one is nineteen.
I didn't go home. I stayed for another beer. And when I said I really was leaving, he asked me for my number and I gave it to him. Saving my ageist qualms for another day -- if he actually calls me that is.
I've often thought about my older-significant-other cut-off point (which is scarily high, at sixty), but haven't given much thought to the other end of the spectrum. I guess because I've always been on the young side relative to the dating populace, & I don't have much contact with high school boys. But now apparently I'm getting up there. Apparently I socialize in the same places that people six years younger than me do. God! Don't we have a legal drinking age of 21? Who let a beautiful college boy into SWEETWATER of all places, to tempt an old lady like me? Can't Bloomberg get his mind off the smoking ban & enforce something that would actually benefit me???
Anyway.
- IF - he calls.
I think I might go out with him. My Nietzschean motto since the age of fifteen (when I would have loved to have met this guy, tho he never would have spoken to the pimply, pudgy, black-fingernail-polished, flannel-shirt-wearing version of me) has been to say yes to all of existence. Taste the rainbow & all of that. But I won't sleep in a goddamn dorm.



Comments: Post a Comment

Archives

12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004   01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004   02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004   03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004   04/01/2004 - 05/01/2004   05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004   06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004   07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004   08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004   09/01/2004 - 10/01/2004   10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004   11/01/2004 - 12/01/2004   12/01/2004 - 01/01/2005   01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005   02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005   03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005   04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005   05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005   06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005   07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005   08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005   09/01/2005 - 10/01/2005  


i heart blogs: ((mike toole)) ((melly)) ((anise)) ((stuart)) ((bring it)) ((paul)) ((TRUEBOY)) ((morgan)) ((marguerite)) ((dave)) ((apple)) ((antidisestablishmentarian)) ((stacy)) ((brigita)) ((ethan)) ((polly)) ((anna)) ((bill)) ((joe)) ((trish)) ((lisa)) ((the cap'n)) ((nicole)) ((dan)) ((sandy)) ((unRat)) ((the hun)) ((jamie)) ((radiohumper)) ((georgia)) ((the slot)) ((bemsha swing)) ((la coquette)) ((gawker)) ((ryan))

i heart new york: ((blogs to read)) ((necessary)) ((literary)) ((observatory)) ((stuff to do)) ((more stuff to do)) ((don't get lost))

i heart art: ((matt curtis)) ((brad)) ((taxidermy)) ((electric heat)) ((liz mcgrath)) ((FFF)) ((shattered lens)) ((italian marble)) ((artblog))

but most of all, i heart you. thanks for coming.

now give it to me
cos i just want 2 love u

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?