And yet so far
Made another pilgrimage to Planet Rose last night and sang my lungs out. Danny accompanied me and we had a blast, being joined by Jason and two lovely ladies from Tennessee. The place was not overly packed, which is always nice because you can actually hear yourself sing. However, there was also a great deal of crowd participation, which was also a lot of fun.
Midway through the evening, there were several arrivals, including a lovely young woman. Said lady and I chatted a bit and even did a duet together. My mind was exploring the possibilities. However, upon closer proximity, I detected the slightest hint of my ancient enemy, tobacco. Sure enough, shortly after finishing her round at the mic, the woman puts on her coat and heads for the door, only to return a short time later, smelling even more of smoke. (For those of you not familiar with the Big Apple, smoking has been banned in bars and restaurants; hence the crowds of desperate puffers shivering outside your average NYC watering hole).
Damn it.
Here was a beautiful woman, my age, very nice and seemingly interested (she kissed me on the cheek when she and her friends left for the evening). Names were exchanged and hearty chuckles were had about this and that. In short, a great opportunity for me to ask for a number and perhaps land a date. However, I just couldn’t. I just can’t hack the smoker thing.
After all, who wants to kiss a butt can?
It was all very frustrating. I don’t absolutely despise being single, but it’s been two years now, and it grows tiresome. I’m fine company for myself and for the first time in my life I have more than my share of friends. But I’d love to have that kind of companionship one can only have from a lover. I'm not talking about sex (although that has something to do with it; who are we kidding here?), but that intimacy that comes from being that close with someone. I miss holding hands and walking down the street. I miss that little jump in the chest one gets upon seeing one’s S.O. Little stolen kisses in cabs and in the backs of restaurants.
The real romantical stuff.
Patience is a virtue, but I’ve been virtuous for quite a while now and would like to reap the rewards of being so decent (so says me). Perseverance. Perseverance.
Soothing the savage breast:
The Cure - Seventeen Seconds
(nothing picks you up like this gem from the Popes of Mope)
Meat Beat Manifesto - Storm The Studio R.M.X.S.
(Jack gets jacked, jerked, and reworked by everybody from Spooky to Merzbow; feel the burn)
Various Artists - Down And Out With The Blues
(a reminder that I really don’t have it that bad)
Ice - Under The Skin
(bottomless, dubbed-out, psycho-jazz heaviness from KMart and JKFlesh)
Sheep On Drugs - Motorbike/Mary Jane
(Me and Baby Jesus, take a trip... and ride)
Midway through the evening, there were several arrivals, including a lovely young woman. Said lady and I chatted a bit and even did a duet together. My mind was exploring the possibilities. However, upon closer proximity, I detected the slightest hint of my ancient enemy, tobacco. Sure enough, shortly after finishing her round at the mic, the woman puts on her coat and heads for the door, only to return a short time later, smelling even more of smoke. (For those of you not familiar with the Big Apple, smoking has been banned in bars and restaurants; hence the crowds of desperate puffers shivering outside your average NYC watering hole).
Damn it.
Here was a beautiful woman, my age, very nice and seemingly interested (she kissed me on the cheek when she and her friends left for the evening). Names were exchanged and hearty chuckles were had about this and that. In short, a great opportunity for me to ask for a number and perhaps land a date. However, I just couldn’t. I just can’t hack the smoker thing.
After all, who wants to kiss a butt can?
It was all very frustrating. I don’t absolutely despise being single, but it’s been two years now, and it grows tiresome. I’m fine company for myself and for the first time in my life I have more than my share of friends. But I’d love to have that kind of companionship one can only have from a lover. I'm not talking about sex (although that has something to do with it; who are we kidding here?), but that intimacy that comes from being that close with someone. I miss holding hands and walking down the street. I miss that little jump in the chest one gets upon seeing one’s S.O. Little stolen kisses in cabs and in the backs of restaurants.
The real romantical stuff.
Patience is a virtue, but I’ve been virtuous for quite a while now and would like to reap the rewards of being so decent (so says me). Perseverance. Perseverance.
Soothing the savage breast:
The Cure - Seventeen Seconds
(nothing picks you up like this gem from the Popes of Mope)
Meat Beat Manifesto - Storm The Studio R.M.X.S.
(Jack gets jacked, jerked, and reworked by everybody from Spooky to Merzbow; feel the burn)
Various Artists - Down And Out With The Blues
(a reminder that I really don’t have it that bad)
Ice - Under The Skin
(bottomless, dubbed-out, psycho-jazz heaviness from KMart and JKFlesh)
Sheep On Drugs - Motorbike/Mary Jane
(Me and Baby Jesus, take a trip... and ride)
posted by Ben at 9:49 AM
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