Kitty Power

Synergy

Objects in the picture are infinitely larger than they appear in real life. I told Jenny not to take a picture of my face before I putlled my hat down and made a face since I feel horribly non-photogenic and my party pics never come out right. Taken at a certain highly publicized party where I saw Nick "Birthday Boy" Catchdubs in the center of the room getting down as it should be, Jenny, Cameron, the prolific Abe, and a minor celebrity who called out to me "God bless you!" as I strolled by, amongst others young and hip. What I didn't see was some free Bacardi(!), but that's okay. I was mostly in observer mode, so I wandered around, preferring corners until I left circa 1:30. Downstairs reminded me of school with the sweatbox atmosphere and the DJ spinning the tried and true hits.

From there, I wandered up to 419 per usual. (note to my city people: I need a new place to go. I'm obviously obsessed with that place and it's bound to drop off any day now. Throw a girl a tip!) I settled myself in with a whiskey sour, usually the first step towards a descent into matters kicking up a notch in ways both fun and bad. Sitting on my stool obviously signaled the start of the punk parade. I was feeling quite ringmasterish.

One man made the cornerstone mistake right off the bat: If you don't know me, don't touch me. He slithers up to me and gives me some sort of pinch before plopping himself in front of me with a doofy ass grin. Oh, hellllll no! I didn't really rip him a new asshole (though I was considering it), but did give all indications that he had fucked up before he even started and he went away soon after with a "why you gotta be like that?" I was reminded of a conversation I had earlier in the evening on the Manhattan-bound E. I was in the corner seat, minding my beeswax when two guys sat diagnally from me. Don't you just love it when a casual glance to a door is reinterpreted as "I'm looking at you and I'm hot for you, baby?" I sure fucking do...in that not sort of way. So, then one's looking at me and I look back to imply "what are you looking at?" and decides that we're gonna chat.

Fuck me with a brick. Whatever strange mystical pact I made with the devil to never be ignored by a man again, I'd like to renege. I'll give up the first and second borns and all will be good. I'm sick of it already.

To him, I was forcifully non-committal and I'll admit it, stepping on the rude side, but shit. After Thursday night, I don't care. I'm about to buy some Mace and start spraying fuckers when they give me the steak on a plate look. I'm just fucking tired of them feeling that I am supposed to be receptive -- and ultimately, their's -- just because I am a young woman in their sights. Fuck them. And I hope someone thinks the same of their sisters and daughters. I was especially annoyed when they wanted to turn the whole thing into "man, see I told you, dark skinned sisters don't give a dark brother no love. She probably is more into you because you're light and all." "Ah, man, that's fucked up! You only like light men?" I almost opened my mouth and said something, but then I was like, "you know what, if I'm not going to talk to him when he's hitting on me, I'm sure as fuck not going to rise to his calling out my judgement calls bait like this fucker knows me!" They got bored with themselves and shut up after a while and I was glad.

But, back to the 419 stage, I ended up in conversation with some Australians who were saying that they were in town for three days. I was dumbfounded because considering it takes two days roundtrip travel practically to get from here to there, the jetlag alone must be killer. I gave them a point when they revealed that it was a business trip. We were interrupted by a guy who was playing some hide and seek sort of game after tapping me on the shoulder. I gave him the eyebrow raise and the "what are you? an idiot?" bitchface which was too bad because he was actually cute. I make no exceptions for stupidity. My Aussie randoms were pretty trashed by the time they got to me and we discussed NYC life and where they could go to have brunch at either the place they do on Sex and The City or Seinfeld. I drew a blank on the SATC spot, but told them that the diner for Seinfeld was a shit long way to travel just for some food considering they were staying in Midtown.

The three of us ended up palling about. They bought me drinks, always a plus in my book. I talked to the guy who was hanging pretty close considering it was revealed he had a wife and child at home. Tsk, tsk. I entertained him with my "real stories" of people he pointed out. It was the turn of a guy in the middle of the floor was dressed in hipster thug gear, topped with a newsboy, actually getting down. I used my powers to deduce that he was dressing down for the weekend, but was super professional yet hip during the week, probably an artsy field but he was the number cruncher. The girl decided she had a thing for the guy. I, the intrepid icebreaker, said a few words to him and deduced he was French before turning it over. The Aussie guy and I hung back and I did a play by play based on the body language. He was initially interested, but Aussie girl played it too forcefully and he prickled and cut it all off. I love drunk people. Every conversation can end up being so dramatic. I played mediator, finding myself clicking with the guy and chatting about music and why he wasn't feeling my girl (in his words, "she's drunk and ugly and I'm not desperate." Harsh!) and I was strangely comforted that he reminded me of some of my old French friends from DC. She broke in with "I was just trying to tell you that you were cool, man. I wasn't hitting on you, I've got a boyfriend at home!" He scoffed in conceit and we kept chatting.

Circa 4:30, we found ourselves the only ones in the place and bounced. Aussies to their hotels cabbed it to their hotel, with the girl leaving with the parting shot, "Candice, you are so cool! You, Mr. Frenchie, are so not cool!" We were amused. He called on me to find an afterparty and I threw out an LES place I'd heard rumblings about. We got there to find nothing and stood on Delancey, shivering trying to plan out a next move. I lit his cigarette by pressing mine to it and he said, "That's a bit suggestive, eh?" To which I replied, "No, not really." Gotta love the impasse. He threw out there that was a big 419 visitor on Mondays and I replied that I was known for weekend visits. He said he lived in Battery Park City and I said I was in Queens. We parted at the Essex Street stop and I thought to myself as I strolled down the platform that I really wanted a double cheeseburger and I should rebrand myself as an international random magnet.

Posted by Candicissima at January 24, 2004 04:59 PM