Monday, April 28, 2008

For Those Keeping Score. . .

. . the first round, I lost her to Greg, the Apple Store Genius.

Now, in the second, I've lost her to God.

I'm expecting to lose out to Mr. T in the third.

There was a long silence following our State of the Union address. I told her of a girl I went on a couple dates with. There was nothing exceptional or exciting about it. After the second date, I went out of town. She tried to persuade me to swing by her place on my way out, claiming to have a gift for me. Unfortunately, schedule didn't permit. The night I returned, we went to have a late dinner at a greasy 24-hour joint by my apartment. It was there that she handed it to me.

As I'm telling her this, I reach behind the seat and retrieve several slim CD jewel cases.

"She made me 19-mix CD's! All with handwritten liner notes listing the names of the songs, and ridiculously descriptive titles like this one 'The guys are coming over to drink beer, smoke cigars, and play poker. You need something chill in the background,' I don't even play poker!"

She takes one of the CD's and reads it's title aloud, "'Volume 17: Having dinner with your parents and drinking late night coffee drinks. Sitting outside in the spring night with your shoes off.'" She is awestruck by the sheer level of insanity she's holding. "Wow, how are the songs?"

"She's an ex-raver. The music is all cracks and pops."

I continued, "I want you to know that I'm not hurt, and I understand where you're coming from. I'm only at a loss for words because what you're holding onto there is representation of where I was and what it is I have to go back into. A series of girls that end up nothing more than a funny story."

The tension was broken by laughter. In a few hours, we'd see the Chicago skyline as we came up north on 55.

When I drop her off at her place, she'll become someone I used to know.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Fucking moron. Mr. T is God.