The real part of the night begins with cider (for me), beer (for Farmer), and splitting a plate of penne pasta with chicken. I'm amused to be in a Williamsburg pub eating pasta in the first place. How random can you get! We chatter -- well, I chatter, nervous and animated while he looks at me bemused. My enthusiasm is infectious and I know he's secretly proud to see me do anything besides mope for a change. And he wonders if I was secretly like this about him back in the day (yes and no, I was a blustering child then...two years feel like a million sometimes). I'm proud of our little bonding time. The optimist in me was let out of her cage one day to prophesize that we could be awesome friends and I was right. I do so love to be right.
I get a text from the boy and feel glad that if I go extreme and blush, it'd never be seen in this dark cave of a place. I hurry us along and we bound -- I bound, he saunters -- out to go to the party. This one thinks he's slick as he decides to smoke and send me off inside to meet myerm, the boy. I feel like I see him in the crowd (one shaggy brown-haired tall dude in a crowd of them...no so much), but I opt to get a drink first. Free drinks will always be my favorite kind.
And then, the crowd parts and there he is. Okay, no it didn't. Farmer came back in and we stood in the middle of the room with our drinks and up came the boy. I smile and "hey" and I must restrain myself from launching at him to get a hug. I'm so cool on the outside, but never in. They're both at least half a foot taller than me in my super flat sneakers and I have to stand a few inches back, making our group into a triangle just to see their faces without hurting my neck. Tall bastards. Everyone else mills around us looking expensively disheveled. Gravitating towards the bar areas, keeping an eye on who is keeping an eye on them. I just look between them, feeling like a puppy. Is everyone getting along okay? Yet? Now? Huh?
Farmer steps away and I ask what the boy thinks of him. "He's kinda obnoxious," he says irritated. I think I reply "what makes you say that? Though that's what everyone says" and I keep myself from adding "that obnoxious dude saved your punk ass from the reject box, son." Farmer comes back and he goes and I tell him what he said. Oh, he's pissed and goes on a yadda yadda rant about how none of my friends like him. "Like you even care," I say. The boy comes back and he goes off to smoke. I tell him that I told him what he said and he tries to backtrack on some hippie dippy "everyone has their place" shit. Whatever, man. Stick to your opinions. "Why'd you do that?" "He's one of my best friends. I tell him everything." Oh, he's sorta annoyed. Like I care. I'm just an instigating bitch.
Farmer makes his exit to meet some friends and the boy and I are alone in the crowd to make eyes at each other and drink more. We decide to ditch out and walk past where our whatever hit the guard rail last week. I make some joke about it and I secretly plead with him not to break my heart again. Heh...like I have a heart. We're traipsing through the outskirts of Williamsburg going...I'm not really sure where. The weather kinda sucks with this light drizzle falling over everything. I look at him kinda funny when he stops me mid-stride. He leans down and kisses me so quick that I can barely get my brain to respond. I wish there was Tivo for life sometimes. I smile at him and say "I was thinking about doing that." He smiles back and we're walking again.
We meet up with his friends and I like them all. They're easy-going and chill, non-intimidating and I'm just me instead of on edge wondering if I'm making a good impression. We're bouncing from place to place, with them, just us until we land on the bar with the live band. I'm not in the dancing mood, so I hang back and wander. After a circuit, I observe him dancing/talking with some Raggedy Ann looking chick. I process. I'm territorial, but not possessive. I've got high enough self-esteem to know that if the guy I with chooses some corny bitch over me, he's just playing himself.
So, I'm just watching impassively in between passing time walking around. After the next circuit, he's alone and I go over to maybe dance with him. He tells me that he's traded his hat for Raggedy's scarf and I want to ask "are you fucking high?" but I already know that yes, yes he is. He's also the worst dancer I've ever seen. Like no joke. He's doing some spazzy shit and completely unable to be led. It's actually kinda making my head hurt. I halfway wander away and see some girl eyeing me and them him to see if the coast is clear. I almost want to laugh. He's cute and all, but the stampede is a bit much.
We head off to the G and chatter along until we get off at Hoyt. We stand there at the top of the stairs at an impasse. It's past 3am on a Thursday and I've got to go out into the cold and wait for a bus once I leave there. He's switching to the A. He gives me one of his crappy hugs and I'm all stiff and unyielding. I'm trying to decide how I feel at the end of the night. I give him a real hug and we just stand there holding on. If the token booth clerk hadn't probably seen it all, she'd probably shake her head at us looking stupid. We hear the rumble of his train and I tell him to go catch it. He's giving me some laser look and I let go and step back to resist the pull. And we walk our separate ways.
Posted by Candicissima at November 14, 2005 10:42 PM