blogging under the influence
Instead of drunk dialing anyone tonight I decided to drunk blog. Let me see if I can remember why I was going to blog in the first place. Oh yes, dmk26 and I went out to dinner in downtown Mountain View. On the way down I pointed out my new little estrogen sticker on my back, which was now itching the hell out of me and turning out to not be a very good alternative to what I was using before. “Why even bother?” he said. Good point. It’s not like I really needed this anymore. “I go crazy without it,” I said. He looked at me curiously. “I mean, more crazy than I already am.”
We sat down to dinner outside in the lovely weather where dmk26 was accosted by small, screaming children who kept wanting to drive their little Matchbox cars on the table and on his head. “I am so not ready for kids,” he said. I patted my little sticker. “Me neither,” I said, “at least right now.” “But with my dad getting really sick,” he continued, “I’m starting to see that when all you have is your family, you don’t want to be alone forever.” “I think there are very few people who want to be alone forever,” I said, then thought, most people don’t even choose to be alone, they just are.
My martini arrived and I downed about half of it before dinner came. I mentioned my situation to him. “You don’t seem that upset about it,” he said to me. While I only bawl my eyes out about once every two days, it’s true that this time around it’s had a different effect on me. I’m about 10 lbs. lighter with no appetite and I wake up every morning at 7:30 no matter what time I went to bed. “It’s different,” I said, realizing I was mostly through a martini that was now going straight to my sinus, making it hard to breathe. “I am upset, but it’s manifesting itself differently than before.” “Because before you had some hope, right?” “Yeah,” I said. I still have hope but it glimmers faintly now, and that makes me very ill indeed.
We walked to the bank and then down to Molly MaGees, which I normally don’t like because it’s so dark inside. It wasn’t tonight. I consciously avoided the chairs where Superstar and I sat only a few months earlier. Dmk26 tells me the song that’s currently playing is really easy on the guitar. “I have a guitar,” I said. “I haven’t played it in two years.” He agreed to show me when we got back to my house.
I got carded as soon as I sat down, and when dmk26 started to whip out his own wallet, the bartender pointed to me. “Not you, just her.” “Ha, and I’m younger than you!” he said to me. “Thank you,” I said. I suppose if I could grow a beard too I would get carded less.
Halfway into my second pear cider an odd fellow walked up next to us and asked for a vodka shot. He then offered me his cigarettes. “No thanks,” I said. Then he tried to push them on dmk26, who also turned them down. He offered them to me again. “That’s not my style,” I said, “and anyway, those are bad for you.” He put them down and asked the bartender for cherries.
“Excuse me,” he said, turning to me. “Do you like cherries?” “What?” I said. “I’m sorry,” he apologized to dmk26, apparently thinking he was my date. “Uh, sure,” I said, taking one of the overly sweet maraschino cherries from his napkin. The man kept making strange sign language gestures that we couldn’t interpret. “I’m sorry,” he said again to me. “I know, I am an old man.” “What?” I said. At this point, dmk26 had already finished his beer and was laughing his ass off. “I’m sorry.” “Ok,” I said, “duly noted.”
At this point the bartender intervened. “I’m telling you, don’t bother the clientele.” They shook hands. What the hell is going on? Oh I wish I hadn’t had so much to drink. Granted, that guy is in way worse shape than me, and on a Sunday night, no less. “I’m sorry,” he parroted. Then he tried to toast dmk26 and me, but dmk26 was already done with his beer, which he tried to point out at least twice before the guy could figure out what was wrong. “I’m sorry.” At this point the bartender came marching back over, and in his soft Irish accent said, “Look, I’m telling you one last time, you bother the other clientele and you’re outta here.” They shook hands again. “I’m sorry.” OMG. I downed the rest of my cider and we ran from the bar, laughing.
“Ok, that was really weird,” I said. “He was very apologetic,” dmk26 said. I figured if I was that drunk off my ass on a Sunday night by myself in a bar with six people in it, I’d be apologizing to myself too.
We went back to my house where dmk26 was inciting me to play the guitar again, and also to buy a hot tub for my patio. “I’m going to turn it into a little oasis,” I said. I showed him my tree lights. “I’m still waiting for this,” he said. “It’s true,” I said. “I’m going to get tiki torches and a fire pit and apparently, a hot tub.”
I don’t know if I’m getting the hot tub. Maybe in the morning when I can think on this soberly I will find out if I ordered one already or not.
