Saturday, June 7
#90, Nile.
We met on AOL when i was fifteen. Can't remember which chat room it was, but it may have been 'Nirvana', where i met so many of my friends. You lived in San Francisco, and had a car, which was so dangerous and exciting to me. i knew who Psychic TV was, which floored you. (Little did you know that i had not heard more than two songs by them.) i can't remember how we decided to meet but i remember we used to talk on the phone late at night and you had such a soft, quiet voice and sweet laugh. When you picked me up i took you to the Berkeley Amoeba store... we browsed the aisles, together but separate, for almost an hour, then walked back through the bright sunshine to your car. i remember it smelled like Nag Champa inside and you kissed me nervously. We both laughed and got really quiet. Can't remember the drive home. i remember you were tall and smiled a lot, had long hair and wore corduroys and were probably quite a bit older than me. i never saw you again, and i can't recall the last words we spoke to one another. Where are you now?
Monday, February 24
#89, Joshypants.
Oh you.
You walked by my work one day and loudly declared your love for me to all who would hear it. i flushed a deep shade of red and all of my co-workers just laughed, and laughed... you yelled as you continued by: i don't normally do this sort of thing! i'm drunk! he made me drink whiskey! Your friend grinned and pulled you along. i thought that was the end of it.
Weeks passed and eventually i came to realize that you worked for Greenpeace, often standing in front of the grocery store near where i worked. i had to walk past you every time i went inside, which was multiple times a day. Your partners in crime all knew who i was ("the red-headed woman of my dreams!") and it killed me.
Then one hot summer day, i brought special glasses to work because i found out that Venus would be transiting the sun. My co-worker and i stood on the sidewalk in front of the flower shop, staring up at the tiny black dot in wonder, trying to entice passers-by to enjoy the celestial sight as well. You came sauntering up while i was helping a customer; i watched as April gave you the shades and heard you when you asked where she got them from (she pointed at me), sighing and saying of course you got them from her. i couldn't understand how you could possibly like me so much, someone you'd never even spoken to.
But that very next minute, you were there talking to me, with your co-worker asking me all kinds of personal questions, being a very abrupt wing-woman. i began to blush so fiercely i had to turn around, and she exclaimed that my very ears were turning crimson... i have never felt so on display in my life. It was terrible! But i blamed her, not you.
Later when April went inside for her lunch, you asked her how to get my attention. i had told her the day before that i was particularly fond of the oddly-shaped (mutant) bell peppers in front of the store; she told you this and when she came back to work she had 4 in a bag for me, purchased by you. Your number was written on a piece of paper inside and it just said: call me! -Joshypants. This had literally never happened to me before in my entire life, and i was 32 years old.
i went home in a state and put the peppers in my crisper. i never really ate bell peppers at home. i didn't know what to do with them. So i stared at them for a few days before realizing that i would feel awful if i just let them rot, symbolically allowing a chance at love to go bad before even giving it a try. So i made fajitas with them, diced them up into omelettes, dipped them in hummus. They were new, and delicious.
Finally one day (how much later i could not possibly tell you, but it was after other attempts you made to ask me out: for a walk, or to read a book or play chess in the park) i texted you. i had only just bought my first-ever cell phone a few weeks prior and had never texted a boy before. i explained that i was so flattered by your attentions, but that i had just broken up with my boyfriend of twelve years not two months before. (This was true.) That i was certainly not even remotely close to dating, and that i hoped you'd understand and that we could still talk as friends when you walked by the shop.
You were sweet, but persistent. You said you weren't asking me to marry you, just go out for a walk. Which, honestly, looking back: i should have taken you up on. But my heart was broken– i was broken. It was hard enough just to pick up my own body parts, gather them cohesively and walk them by myself to where i needed to go each day. The thought of having to give a single ounce of energy or attention to someone else was simply beyond comprehension.
But i will say this: you gave me hope. For the first time in a long time. You helped me to free myself from a long sentence of solitary confinement in a prison that i hadn't even realized i was in. You were like a little bird, calling to me from a garden wall. Hey you! Come over this way! Let's see what's over here!
Eventually, you moved on and got a job somewhere else. We still saw you riding your bike by the shop from time to time, sometimes stopping to give me a sweaty hug and tell me how pretty my eyes were. i actually still miss you to this very day, and was sad that i never got to say goodbye to you when i left San Diego. Hope all is well, dude. You truly do deserve someone special.
i hope you found her.
Weeks passed and eventually i came to realize that you worked for Greenpeace, often standing in front of the grocery store near where i worked. i had to walk past you every time i went inside, which was multiple times a day. Your partners in crime all knew who i was ("the red-headed woman of my dreams!") and it killed me.
Then one hot summer day, i brought special glasses to work because i found out that Venus would be transiting the sun. My co-worker and i stood on the sidewalk in front of the flower shop, staring up at the tiny black dot in wonder, trying to entice passers-by to enjoy the celestial sight as well. You came sauntering up while i was helping a customer; i watched as April gave you the shades and heard you when you asked where she got them from (she pointed at me), sighing and saying of course you got them from her. i couldn't understand how you could possibly like me so much, someone you'd never even spoken to.
But that very next minute, you were there talking to me, with your co-worker asking me all kinds of personal questions, being a very abrupt wing-woman. i began to blush so fiercely i had to turn around, and she exclaimed that my very ears were turning crimson... i have never felt so on display in my life. It was terrible! But i blamed her, not you.
Later when April went inside for her lunch, you asked her how to get my attention. i had told her the day before that i was particularly fond of the oddly-shaped (mutant) bell peppers in front of the store; she told you this and when she came back to work she had 4 in a bag for me, purchased by you. Your number was written on a piece of paper inside and it just said: call me! -Joshypants. This had literally never happened to me before in my entire life, and i was 32 years old.
i went home in a state and put the peppers in my crisper. i never really ate bell peppers at home. i didn't know what to do with them. So i stared at them for a few days before realizing that i would feel awful if i just let them rot, symbolically allowing a chance at love to go bad before even giving it a try. So i made fajitas with them, diced them up into omelettes, dipped them in hummus. They were new, and delicious.
Finally one day (how much later i could not possibly tell you, but it was after other attempts you made to ask me out: for a walk, or to read a book or play chess in the park) i texted you. i had only just bought my first-ever cell phone a few weeks prior and had never texted a boy before. i explained that i was so flattered by your attentions, but that i had just broken up with my boyfriend of twelve years not two months before. (This was true.) That i was certainly not even remotely close to dating, and that i hoped you'd understand and that we could still talk as friends when you walked by the shop.
You were sweet, but persistent. You said you weren't asking me to marry you, just go out for a walk. Which, honestly, looking back: i should have taken you up on. But my heart was broken– i was broken. It was hard enough just to pick up my own body parts, gather them cohesively and walk them by myself to where i needed to go each day. The thought of having to give a single ounce of energy or attention to someone else was simply beyond comprehension.
But i will say this: you gave me hope. For the first time in a long time. You helped me to free myself from a long sentence of solitary confinement in a prison that i hadn't even realized i was in. You were like a little bird, calling to me from a garden wall. Hey you! Come over this way! Let's see what's over here!
Eventually, you moved on and got a job somewhere else. We still saw you riding your bike by the shop from time to time, sometimes stopping to give me a sweaty hug and tell me how pretty my eyes were. i actually still miss you to this very day, and was sad that i never got to say goodbye to you when i left San Diego. Hope all is well, dude. You truly do deserve someone special.
i hope you found her.
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