One hundred and seven

A combo post with cerebraldjitis@gmail.com & twominusmail@gmail.com

When I go out I have a knack for finding the biggest crazy person/douchebag in the room. We are both are, much to my dismay, strangely attracted to each other. My friends find this talent uncanny. I find it more and more annoying and discouraging to the finding someone process.

Here is one such story….

I was downtown a few weeks ago for an opening of a friend’s fantastic photography exhibit. I was talked into a little post opening night celebration at a bar around the corner bounced by one of the biggest asshole bouncers in Los Angeles.

The story isn’t about him if that is what you were thinking.

As I toss my contraband hardly drank plastic bottle of water I share a glance with a very attractive someone outside. I smile, he smiles.

I follow my friends in to the bar, grab an empty stool, and start a tab. He comes in, the empty stool next to me ends up being his. I am excited about this. My friends befriend a couple strangers, I stay quiet and admire people’s tattoo work, and take inventory of the jackelope on the wall, a houka in the shape of a clown, and the mighty lacquered steed balanced on the end of the bar. I am waiting for him to start a conversation since he is staring me down and I am quite conveniently open and hoping for a little get to know you dance.

Time passes and I know that the entire time he is looking at me, I can feel his glance on my plunging neckline my lips when I speak.I can just feel him there, but when I look at him he looks away. Me and a girl I just met pose like the Hawaiian pin-ups that are painted on velvet behind the bar. (a very dumb girl “think I am sexy” move, I know) He watches me do this and when I meet his gaze he turns himself to the USC game. We play this little back and forth for a while and I figure if he is interested he will do something about it.

My other friend who promised me a lift decides that she needs to leave right now, with a guy in our group, who I didn’t even see her talking to the entire night.  It just takes a glance, sometimes, I guess.

I turn to a friend of mine I hadn’t chatted with that much that night and she leans in and asks:

“What is the deal with him?”
I say “Oh, the guy who keeps staring at me and looking away when I look at him?”
“I know I noticed that. What is that all about? You should talk to him” She nudges me a bit.

I say that “I am shy and now he seems a little too drunk and a little too alone.”

She decides at that moment to play wing man and raises her glass, looks him dead in the eye and says:

“What are we toasting to?”
“It’s my birthday.” he slurs.
“Well, happy birthday.”
I join in the clinking of glasses.
“What are you doing to celebrate?”
“I was supposed to meet a friend here, but it has been a couple hours so I don’t think they are coming”

She asks a question to inquire whether or not this is a female person, but I can’t remember what it was. But it isn’t a she he is waiting for.

“I have been in LA for two years and I have made exactly one friend” he says holding his pointer up.
“Where are you from?”
“Everywhere” he replies
“But where?”
“Like 12 different places. I don’t want to bore you with all of them.”
“Army”
“No, I am an artist. I used to be famous…..”
“Have I heard of you?” she asks
“Probably… I hate LA and I was brought here under false pretenses.”
“What does that mean?”
“I was promised all this money by a gallery who wooed me from New York…I love New York… the gallery closed because of the economy or whatever, but because they broke the contract with me I sued them. I spent all of my money in the legal battle and now I am living in my car in a parking garage down the street”

I zoned out when he started to say that his art was too hard to explain to us mere mortals.

no friends-check
heart on his sleeve-check

With that, I put my hand on his knee, swivled out of my stool and went to powder my nose. In the past I would have dated this person for at least two years, come on if you knew me you know it is true.