Lunch by the river

Noticing things

Me: Yo, what are you up to? I can’t do any more work and I’m going stir crazy here.
Him: Screw it, come on by. Do you have any extra gloves and masks?

I’ve been trying to catch up on work, but it’s hard being here with the sheer emptiness of it all. I miss the boy terribly.

So, like I said in my previous entries, I hopped onto my scooter and zipped down from the UWS to the LES to take Chad out to eat.

Here’s a quickie vid on what it’s like out there.

It was honestly the perfect day to be out and about. It took me twice as long to get there as it should’ve because I kept stopping to take pictures or video. Once I finally got there, we tried to figure out what was for lunch.

As you know, I’m a sucker for a gyro, so that’s what I got.

He got a gyro burger, which makes no sense to me but he’s an adult so…

Me: OK, where we going, man?
Him: It’s a nice day, we can eat by the river.

My lungs are mostly ok but, honestly, walking those few blocks was difficult. Not necessarily bad, but noticeably not normal.

This thing is truly a bear. Being audited while you’re trying not to die is a new experience, lemme tell ya.

And I’ve had a lotta shitty experiences.

We finally got to the river and it was just perfect. More people were out than probably should’ve been but definitely less than the normal crowd. It was nice to be in society again.

And the food was so good that we both agreed not to speak for five minutes as we enjoyed it shoveled it into our pieholes.

Afterward, we chatted for a bit when I locked eyes with one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen in my life. She was stupid attractive.

Me: Hi there.
Her: (laughs) Hi!

Chad commented that I should have spoken to her more.

Him: Whoa, she was hot and that was a huge smile she gave you, why don’t you talk to her?
Me: (laughing) How do you know she had a huge smile?
Him: (puzzled) What? I saw.
Me: (nodding) OK. Yes, she was beautiful, and, yes, that was a big smile she gave me. But here’s what I noticed….
Him: (afterwards) Oh, that’s really interesting. I never thought about that.
Me: I have my rules. I always have my rules.
Him: (shaking head) I don’t get it but, ok. Man…

It’s a little party trick of mine; noticing little things and trying to make sense of what they mean. Hopefully correctly.

All my senses have been dulled for so long but I feel a little bit of the old me from so long ago.

After a bit, we headed back to his place but stopped off at a local bodega.

Me: Hard seltzer. I’m secure in my manhood. Do it?
Him: (laughing) Sure.
Me: Oooooh, mango…

We kept some good social distancing in his tiny pad.

Honestly, it was good to see and speak to another human being again. I didn’t realize just how cruel and harsh solitary confinement is. And this is nuthin compared to that.

Me: Well, I guess I should go.
Him: Are you ok to get home?
Me:  (getting up) Well, we’re about to find out.

Podcast Version: Lunch by the River
Location: a few days ago, the John V. Lindsay East River Park
Mood: hungry
Music: I notice every single thing, that’s ever happening (Spotify)
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Doubling-Down, Pt 2 – Baseline

Histrionic Personality Disorder

This is a long entry because I just wanna get this off my chest and be done with it.

I saw Chad the other day, which is another entry.  We were talking about this whole crazy situation when somehow our old coach came up, and this is actually why I returned to this topic.

Him: I want you to know for sure; he told me that he was kicking you out because Mouse was dating you.
Me: Oh my god, thank you for telling me. There was always a part of me wondering if I was crazy or not.

Continuing with my last post, on the three steps of an apology, our old coach always did Step 3, like offering free classes or taking people out to eat, but he never did Steps 1 or 2.

One day, a huge newbie came to the gym and we were doing take-downs. My coach asked me to work with the noob and the first thing he did was tackle me at full-speed, completely tearing my ACL.

My coach told me that he wouldn’t charge me for classes and also did fundraisers for Alison when she got sick, both of which I appreciated. But note that both are only Step 3.

He not only never did Step 1 – apologize for setting me up with a newbie without properly instructing him on what to do – like the acquaintance from my last entry, he doubled-down on 2.

You really should’ve just gone with it, Logan.

Meaning, I caused myself to tear my ACL and not the 200-pound newbie, who tackled me, and my coach’s poor supervision.

My coach wasn’t even looking at us when it happened. Trust me when I tell you, I went with it.

That was it. Eight years later, nuthin. He just left it with Step 3 and the double-down.

Actually, I finally hit the red line with him when he triple-downed with me with his weird attraction to Mouse and started me thinking deeply about what his damage was. It’s just creepy and weird all around.

Did you know that you need a physical injury for cancer? You can’t mentally will someone to get cancer, you have to have something actually injure you – a virus (HPV), a particle (asbestos, coal), a physical action (tick bite), something.

Well, when you hurt someone, without early intervention, that injury metastasizes like cancer.

You wanna stop cancer? You gotta get it early, Stage 1. If you do nothing? The worst outcome happens.

That’s why they’re so lonely. Because they not only don’t try to stop it at Stage 1, they double and triple-down, to ensure that there’s no relationship.

I remember bringing the three steps up with the acquaintance and he just scoffed and essentially said, That’s just you, most people don’t need that. That’s demonstrably false, especially since he’s destroyed every relationship that mattered to him, ever.

That’s like saying, you don’t need medical intervention to cure cancer, just drink lemon juice.

Dude, your naked belief doesn’t change something factually true. The truth is that the best bet for curing cancer – and it’s a shitshow, lemme tell ya – is to throw every scientifically valid thing against it.

You screwed up and you wanna save a relationship? The starting point for everyone on the planet is the three steps. Everyone. That’s baseline.

If I’m honest with myself, I never got over that my coach destroyed my physical body and just moved on with his life. I can’t, I don’t have that luxury.

For the rest of my life, when I wake up, my knee reminds me of his failure as a coach and – frankly – as a basic, decent human being.

Our mutual friend asked me to forgive him and I told him honestly: No. He’s never done the baseline of what forgiveness requires. Not for any of us: Me, Chad, Pac, Robinson, just off the top of my head.

He injured us all in some way and went about his life and those injuries metastasized. What could’ve been an easy fix – I’m sorry, I had a bad day, I’ll make it up to you – is now insurmountable because of the doubling/tripling-down.

It’s your fault.

And that’s why these people are the loneliest people I know: Their 14-year-old selves were somehow taught that you never apologize for things (properly – all three steps). Their adult-selves, and others, pay the price.

They share more with Trump than they can admit. And Trump is a lonely soul.

Interestingly, all the people I mentioned – Trump, Michael Scott from the office, my acquaintance, and my old coach – all seem to suffer from Histrionic Personality Disorder.

They have weird relationships with the opposite sex (they can only have opposite-sex relationships that have some sexual component to it), are attention-seeking, and have poor impulse-control, among other things.

The two people I know personally definitely had traumatic childhoods, and I do pity them. But I also accept that they will never change because they don’t want to. They make the conscious choice to not change and to double- and triple-down, every single time.

That’s not healthy for anyone. I don’t wish them any ill; I just don’t want to risk getting injured again.

None of these people are bad people. Like everyone, they’re capable of good and bad actions. But if they can’t accept responsibility when they factually hurt other people, it overwhelms whatever good they possess.

At least for me.

Look, I get what happened to me was eight years ago. But what’s changed besides time? Time not only doesn’t replace the three steps, time makes the three steps even harder – for everyone.

Halsey wrote a song called, You Should Be Sad for her ex. She was basically saying that she wanted the relationship to work but it didn’t. She was sad over what was lost but, at least according to the song, he didn’t even give her that: Grief over losing the relationship, Step 2.

I get it. Cause that’s baseline, man. I’m sorry. I feel bad. What can I do to fix this? That’s baseline.

Podcast Version: Doubling-Down, Pt 2 – Baseline
Location: my empty apartment, which is fulla carbs
Mood: thoughtful
Music: I tried to help you, it just made you mad (Spotify)
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Doubling-Down, Pt 1

Everyone’s got a red line

Do you remember when I gave you that three-step PSA on how to apologize?

      1. The words: “I’m sorry.”
      2. Some manifestation of contrition: “I feel awful about what I did; there’s no excuse.”
      3. Some overt act to try make things right again: “I’ll make it up to you. Let’s go to counseling.”

Think about Michel Scott from The Office: He’s lonely because he regularly hurts people but he can’t seem to do Steps 2 or 3. He can barely do 1.

The actress that played Pam said that she broke down twice while filming the episode where you saw why Michael was Michael.

[Michael is] asked what he wants to be when he grows up and he says, ‘I want to be married and have 100 kids, so I can have 100 friends and no one can say no to being my friend.’…This is when I had to turn off the episode.

I get it. I always make excuses for other people’s shitty behaviour.

But I submit that a lotta lonely people are the ones that don’t understand that apologies are a three-step process.

And the loneliest ones are the ones that not only don’t understand this, they’re the ones that double-down; they make the situation worse, so that there’s no coming back.

As much as possible, I make this blog about me. But screw it, I’m in a writing mood for reasons I’ll tell you about tomorrow. Lemme tell you about something on my mind lately.

I have an acquaintance that does Step 1: He apologizes for things, but that’s it. He never feels bad about what he did (Step 2), and, not only doesn’t do Step 3 either – try to make it better – he always doubles-down.

For example, he was always talking about his female “best friend.” While I know the girlfriend, I finally met the “best friend” at a party one night and she told me, “We’re not best friends, we barely talk. He’s just always been infatuated with me.”

The thing is, she might’ve once legitimately’ve been a close friend. But that stopped when he got jealous one day and bailed on her in a foreign country.

Two years later, he ran into her and did Step 3 – by pretending everything was fine – but never he did steps 1 and 2. The thing is, he caused an injury to that relationship that never healed. And now, never will. Too much time has passed.

Full disclosure – the best friend was honestly quite nice. And oblivious that the acquaintance was going around town calling her his best friend.

But it was only after we finally met that I realized that her being his best friend was all just a ruse; he told everyone that because he just wanted an excuse to be around her, even when he was dating other people, just in case an opportunity arose for him.

The opportunity actually happened – after a decade – when he got drunk and made a sloppy pass at his best friend at this party.

With his girlfriend there.

And the best friend’s boyfriend there as well.

The girlfriend demanded that he finally admit that they weren’t best friends and to defriend all the rando women that he kept picking up. That’s a whole different story.

Not only did he not apologize and not defriend anyone, he doubled-down and broke up with her.

How’s that for a kick in the head?

I guess everyone – him, his girlfriend, the mythical best friend, and everyone that saw him make this drunken pass at the party – finally knew what only he knew: He didn’t love his girlfriend and had been holding a torch for his supposed best friend the entire time. Ten years.

Why do I care? Well, I hate injustice.

But I also hate this whole situation because it goes against everything I know to be true; men and women can – and should – be friends. But people like this screw it up for the rest of us.

I’ve got so many female friends that I’ve not only never made a pass at, we’ve never come close. Even when massive amounts of alcohol are involved.

I feel bad for his ex, she wasted three years of her life with him. She loved him completely, and her life story would break your heart.

Me riding past the Hudson Yards and The Shed.

See, she actually supported the dude while he was a struggling student and one day, he won this prize. Instead of giving it to her, he ended up giving it to this random girl he met just a few weeks earlier.

Even when the girlfriend found out about the prize, she still stayed with him because he had an admittedly rough life, just like Michael Scott.

And she was madly in love with him. He literally bragged to people that he went on this date with this girl. It was hilarious to him. He showed me a text where he wrote his best friend, “At least I squeezed in two dates before I got caught.”

Like I said, he never apologizes and can’t help but double-down.

It’s a goddamn shame.

I mean, she’s an idiot, but it’s still a goddamn shame. That kind of loyalty and love is rare; if you’re lucky enough to find someone that’s always on your side, you should protect it with all you got.

Education’s expensive though. At least she finally learned and moved on. To quote one of my exes, Everyone’s got a red line.

This is getting super long, so I’ll finish it up tomorrow. I got a lotta time on my hands to think. And write.

Speaking of female friends, I just finished writing this when KG Betty wrote me.

We’ve known each other a decade as well. I crashed at her place a buncha times and she at mine. Never kissed her or anything ever. I just don’t get how other people live. For serious.

Cause, my relationship with KG Betty is valuable to me, I won’t jeopardize that for something stupid.

Her: Finally! I heard you got sick, I was worried about you.
Me: It’s good to hear from you. How’s life in Korea?
Her: (laughing) Much better than where you are, Logan. You guys are in trouble.

Podcast Version: Doubling-Down, Pt 1
Location: yesterday, riding past my possible pasts
Mood: free
Music: What a shame, we coulda had a good thing (Spotify)
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Goodnight, Nick

I miss my tribe

Decades ago, my mom was gardening in front of our apartment when a woman came out and started talking to her about plants.

She was Greek and spoke with a crazy thick Greek accent; my mom was Chinese and spoke with a crazy thick Chinese accent. Somehow, though, they connected – probably because both saw the world the same way,

They became best friends, to this day. Everyone finds it ridic cute, that these two lovely women found each other in this sad little world of ours.

When my dad died, it was this friend that called my mom constantly, just to make sure my mom was ok. That’s what friends do.

My mom wasn’t, of course, but her friend made it a little better, I think.

In any case, that woman’s husband, Nick, died earlier this week. I wasn’t super close with him, but he was in the fabric of my life since my earliest memories of the world.

Nick died this week right before his birthday, which bothers me greatly because Alison died just right after hers. And like Alison, and my dad, Nick suffered before he died. That makes me irrationally angry for reasons I can’t properly express.

Like Fouad and Kirk, he too died of pancreatic cancer. Three people I’ve known in less than a year. It boggles the mind and breaks the heart.

That pic above was taken almost 12 years to the day by my brother. Nick had come by for my sister’s birthday. They did things like that.

Their family has never shown us anything but kindness. When money, beauty, and possessions go away, kindness stays. That’s why I’m a sucker for kindness; it’s the only thing really worth anything in this shitty world.

It’s my mom’s turn to support her friend now. It’s hard; my mom just had surgery and this damn pandemic hangs over us all. But she does what she can.

A man’s dying is more the survivors’ affair than his own. This was and remains true. There’s nothing I can do or say to my mom’s best friend beyond, I’m sorry, and I understand. Cold comfort, but the truth, nonetheless.

It’s good they have each other. Life’s hard enough without your people. She’s Greek, my mom’s Chinese, but they’re both part of the same tribe. In that sense, they’re lucky.

All we really have in the world are our tribes; the people that love us, I suppose.

Everything else is just hot breath and lies. And what good is that, in the end?

Goodnight, Nick. Your family misses you very much. We all do.

All this death around me wears on my psyche, I think. I’ve been talking to other people that, like me, have dealt with depression in the past.

Buddy: I haven’t hugged anyone in over a month!
Me: Dude, me neither. I don’t think I’ve touched another human being in over a month. I’ve also not hugged my son in this time, which is excruciating.
Him: Man, that must suck.
Me: So much. So much.

I miss my son terribly. When this is over, I’m gonna hug the crap outta him.

He’s gonna complain the entire time and I’m not gonna care, I’m just gonna do it. I’m bigger than he is and there won’t be anything he’ll be able to do about it.

I cannot wait.

Podcast Version: Goodnight, Nick
Location: you’d never guess
Mood: sad and pensive, and missing the people I love
Music: If we never met, I’d be drunk, waking up in someone else’s bed (Spotify)
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Logan’s 47

Human Interaction

My gym’s shutting down our location for a number of reasons, COVID-19 being one. Ideally, it’s only temporary.

The owner posted that he, his wife, and Chad would be cleaning the place up that afternoon so I decided to finally venture out.

Took my electric scooter down Broadway and it was glorious. The city’s still mostly empty.

Made it to the gym in less than 30 mins. Woulda been sooner but I kept taking pictures and gawking at things. I’d not been outta the house in a meaningful way for over a month.

Walking into the gym felt exceedingly normal.

Owner: Logan! How you doing? Hey, do you smell something?
Me: (cautiously) Yes? What is that?
Him: OK, right before you walked in, I found this bottle in this locker. So, I shook it…
Me: Oh god…

Chad was there along with the other owner helping out.

Chad: How’re you?
Me: (laughing) I think this is the first time I’ve heard my own voice in about two days. Definitely the first time I’ve had any real human interaction in weeks.

Presently other people showed up.

Me: I gotta ask, did you find a bat in your apartment?
Her: (laughs) Yes. I’m the cause of this whole thing!
Me: I need to know more.

I’d gone out after a few minutes to get beer for the guys but I left my face mask at the gym, not thinking it’d be too much of an issue.

Store 1 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: S’ok. I respect your putting the safety of your people before short-term profit.

Store 2 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: While I respect your putting the safety of your people before short-term profit, I just wanna get a six-pack.
Staff: Sorry.

Store 3 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: WhileIrespectYourPuttingTheSafetyOfYour PeopleBeforeShort-termProfit, I just wanna get a six-pack.
Staff: Sorry.

Store 4 staff: Sorry, we can’t let you in without a mask.
Me: (walking quickly past guard to beer section) WhileIrespectYourPuttingTheSafetyOfYourPeopleBeforeShort- termProfit,IJustWannaGetASix-pack. Here’s a 20, keep the change.

I’m not (terribly) proud.

Owner: (looking at beer) Why’d you get watery-beer for us?
Me: First of all, I’m watching my weight, second of all, shut up, you wouldn’t believe what I went through to get this beer.

Just shopping made me run out of breath. This sickness really took a lot outta me.

More people came and left. Everyone practiced safe social distancing.

Soon, it was my turn to go.

Had an interesting ride back but it’s getting late so I’ll tell you about that some other time.

Right around when I got in the door, got a message from the owner:

Him: You classy bastard. You left those last two beers here. That shows good breeding and manners. You’d be surprised how many people don’t have that.
Me: Ha, really? Who takes the last two beers they brought for the group? My parents didn’t raise me that way, homie.
Him: You’d be amazed.

I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I almost tripped over a box on my doorstep.

Mouse sent me a gift for my birthday. She hadn’t contacted me in weeks, not until I got sick, anyway. Suppose that’s her story to tell.

I picked up the box and brought it home. When I opened the door, I yelled out:

Hey, I’m back!

But got nuthin in return. Harold’s still not speaking to me and the boy’s still away. Still, hope – and madness – springs eternal.

I’m 47 years-old by the time you read this sentence.

One, holy shitballs.

Two, hooray.

Location: my empty apartment, now with a box and lots of taco wrappers
Mood: empty also
Music: been roaming around, always looking down (Spotify)
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Isolation Days 16-18: Not sure what’s me

(Virtually) Drinking with Friends

I spend my days completely alone, overthinking everything.

But, ever since I put up my virtually drinking with friends, others have reached out to me to do the same, which I appreciate and do when I’m mentally able to do it.

It’s nice to seeing who checks in on you.

RW: Happy Hour on zoom at 5:30p!
Me: I’m in.

Of course, I check in on some people as well…

Me: What’s going on with you?
NM: Do you know I moved?
Me: You might’ve told me. I don’t remember a lot of the past few years. Except for the things I don’t wanna remember – that stuff I remember.

Still others are mutual…

Me: We’re finally chatting! How’s quarantine?
KT: Well, I’m an essential worker so I don’t know. I’m back to work on Monday. Hey, we’re dressed alike!

Still others are as if it’s business as usual…

CV: Wait, I must’ve told you about this. It was back when I lived in Westchester.
Me: Dude, if it happened in the last five years, you probably did. I just don’t remember. I don’t remember a lotta things from the last five years.
CV: OK, here’s what happened…
Me: (later) I don’t hate him like you guys. I just think he’s lame.

Not everything was fun and games, though. Some interactions just drag me further into my head, even when it’s not intentional.

Him: One of my friends couldn’t do another shift at the hospital. So, I covered for him.
Me: (sighing) On the one hand, I’m proud of you that you’re helping people. On the other hand…
Him: I know. I’ll be careful.

I didn’t take pictures of alla them. Some I forgot…

Her: So, I’m dating someone.
Me: That’s great, how’d…
Her: (interrupting) Not really. I was just about to break up with him and then all this happened.
Me: (laughing) Only you, HEI…

…others I remembered but misplaced the pictures, and still others refused to let me take pics.

Her: God, no, Logan! I’m on day 10 of quarantine. You’re lucky I’m even video-chatting with you.
Me: (scoffing) Look at me, I look like a shaggy dog. I should shave.

The one that most affected me, though, had to do with the girl from this entry, way back when. An immediate family member of hers has the same cancer as Alison, glioblastoma.

Her: Are you ok talking about this?
Me: No. But I will. If I can help, I will.

Can’t seem to escape it. It’s everywhere these days; death, Alison’s cancer, cancer in general, and health issues like this pandemic. It grinds me down.

How do you escape your own thoughts? I’m a prisoner in my own head.

Me: I don’t believe there’s a god. If there is, he either hates us or is fat, orange, and stupid and only likes his fat, orange, and stupid creations.
Her: Well, it does seem like he has favorites, that’s for sure.

I try to stop eating and drinking by 6:30 every night. It’s part of intermittent fasting. Lost four pounds since this whole thing started.

But lately, I find myself drinking later and later. I tell myself that it’s only for now. Then again, I tell myself a lotta things.

Her: I’m surprised you’re all by yourself and didn’t find someone to keep you company. That doesn’t seem like you.
Me: I’m trying to avoid everyone these days. Besides, I’m  not sure what’s me anymore, anyways.

Location: a couch, being told about the Tiger King
Mood: weird
Music: I’m all but a victim in my prison head (Spotify)
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Isolation Days 9-10: Seeing the doc

First human interaction

As I said in my last entry, went to sleep on night 8 with a massive headache and an aching jaw.

When I woke up the next morning, Day 9, I had a terrible earache, which was oddly comforting as I was worried it was something else, like COVID-19, or Sleepy Logan was doing stuff again.

Rang my brother to ask him what I should do. I’ve never had an earache in my entire life.

Him: Normally, I’d tell you to go to the medemerge but this is a unique situation.
Me: Lemme call them and see how busy they are.

Turns out they were completely empty. Took me less than three minutes to see the doc.

Her: Well, you definitely have an infection in your ear. Nothing a few drops can’t help. Can someone help you put them in?
Me: Nope, you’re the first meaningful human interaction I’ve had in days.
Her:  Oh, I’m sorry.
Me; Yeah, me too.

Funny thing’s that I put up a pic of me on Instagram and people thought it was my eye, when I was just rolling my eyes at the ridiculousness of it all.

My eye was much worse a few weeks ago: click here if you’re not squeamish. If you are, absolutely do not.

Went to my local pharmacy to pick up the script but they were closed so I went to pick up the peanut butter I needed for later. My local supermarket’s now selling paper bags cause plastic bags are outlawed here in NY, these days.

When I went back to the pharmacy, waited behind a barrier of tape to get my meds.

The woman at the counter was just about to hand me my bag when the pharmacist in the back – who’d been speaking in increasingly strident tones – started yelling into the phone: “No! Do NOT come in. Wait outside. Sir. Sir! SIR! Do not come in! We’re locking the door now.”

With that, he sprang from the rear of the drugstore to the front and started yelling at the guys in the front to shut everything down.

This whole time, the cashier is continuing to hold my bag, despite my asking for it a dozen times.

Me: (leans over barrier and grabs bag from cashier’s hand) I’ll be leaving now.
Her: Hey! That was rude.
Me: (walking away) So was making me wait for no reason when – clearly – stuff’s about to go down, miss.

As I walked to the front, a crowd had gathered outside because they locked the door. They opened the door to let me out. Everyone outside was at least 70 years old.

Me: (exiting) Did they tell you what’s going on?
Old lady: No. They just locked the door.
Me: (walking away from crowd) They locked the door for a reason. I wouldn’t be standing around here or going in for at least the next hour, if I were you. Jus’ say’n…

And just like that, they all scattered.

Been having drinks with friends, online. My nightly drink card’s pretty full but not everyone’s willing to let me put up pics.

Still, you’ve met my buddy, Bryson, before.

Me: Good god, look at that beard.
Him: (laughing) I hate it but the girls (his daughters and wife) love it.
Me: You’re black and Asian; black don’t crack and Asian don’t raisin. You’re doing it all wrong, you look like your age. (later) Hey, can you send me a pic of this for my blog?
Him: Sure
Me: (later) Jesus Christ, look at the size of my head!
Him: (laughs)

Had to make that pic smaller so my enormous noggin didn’t take up your entire screen. Also drank with my buddy, Paolo, whom you see in the pic above.

Him: What are you drinking?
Me: Grapefruit beer.
Him: Not rum? Wait, that sounds like you.
Me: I got it for Mouse but she’s not around so I’m drinking it. Man, that hair is weirding me out.
Him: Can’t get to a barber, what with the kid and this lockdown.
Me: Got it. Suppose I’ll be rocking that look myself, soon enough.

Speaking of Mouse, one of her friends, whom I’ve only ever met once, reached out to me to see if I – and the kid – was ok. It was really rather sweet.

Alison always believed that the key to anyone’s heart is through their kids and she was totally right.

On that note, two other women from my past also contacted me just to see how I was. Combining the three convos so this entry doesn’t drag on forever.

Her: How is your little trouble maker? I’m sure he also misses you terribly.
Me: He’s great! We Skype like this, daily.
Her: I’m sorry about what happened with your wife. If nothing else, she was lucky to have you as a husband.
Me: I wonder about that sometimes.
Her: Trust me, it’s awful out there. I’m seeing someone that…(trails off) Well, now’s not the time to be alone, Logan. (looking around, laughing) Which I am.
Me: (nodding) You and me both, lady. At least you have a dog.

Location: a still almost empty UWS apartment building
Mood: inebriated and fulla cookies
Music: If we have each other then we’ll both be fine (Spotify)
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Late Late

Tequila is still not my friend

Two buddies from college have birthdays around the same time and we all use these birthdays as an excuse to get together. I’ve been MIA for the past several years: Before Alison got sick with cancer, we kept losing babies and we both didn’t want to be social at all.

The very last time I attended one of these, Alison had recently lost another one but she insisted I go out and have a good time. I tried. She was diagnosed later that year.

Fuck. This is why I drink.

My college friends were some of the first people I called when I re-entered the world. Every single one of them came out.

In any case, I actually couldn’t make dinner because of a prior engagement but I showed up afterward for drinks. Walked into the middle of a funny debate:

Her: …I think most of the cool kids dated in high school. Did any of you not?
Me: Do you know the nerds that the jocks and cool kids beat up? Well, I was the guy that those nerds beat up.

I actually did date two girls in high school. Both ended disastrously, as most high school things go, although I do have fond memories of one of them. But that’s besides the point.

On the topic of dating, one of the guys, Anthony, recently became single.

Me: It’s tough for me to do something like online dating because (a) I’m older and (b) I have a kid, so I kinda have to do real life pickup. Luckily, I have little to no shame.
Her: What do you say to people?
Me: “My name’s Logan. I’m looking to make some friends. You look nice.”
Her: (laughs) Does that work?
Me: (shrugging) The truth is a powerful thing.

Ended up buying Anthony some bourbon and he bought the table some shots. Tequila shots.

Honest to god, I’ve lost two hats in my life and both were when I had tequila. Tequila is still not my friend.


We all ended leaving east of midnight and Anthony and I were headed the same way. We kept chatting about dating and being single.

As we approached 14th Street, I looked up and locked eyes with a beautiful girl.

Me: Hello, darling. You look nice. How’s your evening been?
Her:  (laughs) Good. (pause) That’s a cool jacket.
Me: Thank you. So, what’s your name?
Her: (smiles) Serena.
Me: How very nice to meet you, Serena. My name’s Logan. Now, have you met my friend, Anthony yet? (turning to Anthony) Anthony, this is Serena. (turning to Serena) Serena, this is Anthony. You two should talk. This is my stop. Have a lovely evening.

Now, I actually had two more adventures that night that I’ll keep to myself for the time being, but ended up drunkenly calling someone after 2AM, which is yet another story in and of itself.

Her: Are you…are you drunk dialing me? I think this is my first drunk dial.
Me: What luck. Mine as well. It’s good to be first.

I woke up late the next day when I got a buzz on my phone.

Life is nothing if not entertaining.

Location: the basement of my brain, again
Mood: disappointed
Music: Say something

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Chad and Mouse turn 30, Pt 2

They deserve it

Random Girl: You threw her a birthday party? You’re such a good guy!
Me: (shaking head) Nah, it’s a less the quality of my character, and much more the quality of hers. Anywho, that’s her story, not yours. What’s your name again?

We all stayed for a bit longer but I ended up trying to avoid several people that night, for various reasons.

Which, let’s be honest, sounds about right.

Him: Logan! You gotta stop drinking, or you’re going to do something you’re going to regret.
Me: With them? (shaking head) They’re not the women you should be worried about with me.
Him: All the more reason to stop. (stepping away) I’m getting you some water.
Me: Yeah. (nodding, sliding into seat) That’s probably a good idea. Yeah…

There was one woman I spoke to that night who wasn’t a rando, though, and it was the most interesting conversation I had that night.

She was actually the wife of a friend and she asked me some questions about my past; turns out that she (kinda) knew me before I became the me you know

You see, she knew me when I drank with the Devil. But that’s a story for another time.

Her: Holy s__t! I was there that night! I must have met you!
Me: (laughing) I was the grey man. Very few people actually knew or met me, which is how I liked it.
Her: (later) Do you remember B? And C? Man, I had such a crush on B!
Me: (laughing) Haven’t heard that name in decades. C called his group, Jade after a chick – well, Jade was my girlfriend. But she was a lifetime ago. It was all a lifetime ago. (shaking head) I’m not that person anymore. Not even a little bit. (looking around club) OK, maybe a little bit…

That couple went home – but not before handing me some red envelopes – and I sat down at our tables with my thoughts about all my possible pasts.

Shoot, I also need to thank my cousin Ras and her husband Kit – they gave me a red envelope for my son as well. More on that in a future entry.

Anywho, everyone slowly left, one-by-one.

Him: I gotta go. You should go home, too.
Me: Can’t.
Him: Why not?
Me: (shrugging) Because I won’t leave Mouse alone on her birthday if she wants to keep hanging out.
Him: We’re all too old for this. She’s too old for this, now.
Me: (laughing) Well, me for sure. Look, I gotta make sure she gets home ok.
Him: She’s not your responsibility.
Me: (shrugging) She is tonight.

Afterward, Mouse and a handful of friends went to the hookah bar next door. The one with the weird bathrooms.

Her: We are at hooks place.

Hadn’t done anything like that since my dad passed of lung cancer, but I knew she enjoyed it so I went.

I made the waiter laugh and told him it was her birthday so he comped us a plate of fries.

Him: You’re funny.
Me: My life’s nuthin if not one tremendous f_____g joke, man. I’m gonna need some water. And some complex carbohydrates.

It was well past 2AM when we finally left. It was just Mouse and me at the end.

Mouse: Thanks for doing that. Everything. Even the hooka bar; I know how against that you are what with your dad and all.
Me: Of course. It was your night. You get anything you want, if it’s in my ability. You deserve it.
Her: My friends were impressed.
Me: Well, win for me, then. So, what now?

There’s more but that’s between her and me.

I did everything I intended to do and more – both for her and Chad. That felt good.

The night went exactly as I had hoped it would. Better even, actually. They both left for home with huge smiles on their faces.

Like I said, if anyone deserved it, it was the two of them. Each for their own special reasons. We pick the people we choose to care about, for reasons none of us can fully articulate, but that we all innately understand.

Chad and I spoke the next day.

Him: I just wanted to say thanks for doing that. I had a great time.
Me: Good. That’s all I wanted.

My reward for alla this? Slept like the dead for 13 glorious, uninterrupted hours.

For someone that doesn’t sleep well but dreams a lot, that’s a win too.

Unrelated to everything, did you see the Star Wars Fight Scene breakdown Chad and I did?

Can you do us a solid and subscribe? Evidently, good things happen when we get about 10,000 subscribers so only 9,100 more to go…

Location: bed, glorious bed
Mood: sick
Music: I’ll wait for somethin’ more

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Chad and Mouse turn 30, Pt 1

Can’t be trusted

Friend: You’re throwing her a birthday party? Why?
Me: Because everyone deserves a kick-ass 30th birthday party, especially her.

Haven’t really seen nor spoken to Mouse since we got back from the Bahamas for a variety of unimportant reasons.

But she just turned 30 recently and I tried to throw her a surprise birthday party. Basically sent a bevy of out-of-the-blue messages to her friends and family asking them to get me in touch with everyone she knew.

The whole not seeing nor talking to each other didn’t help.

Didn’t matter – what mattered was pulling this off for her.

For me, this was bordering on stalking, but I figured that she’d be ok with it and everyone she knew already intensely disliked me so…sunken cost, if you will.

Besides, I did it because, even when she was super mad at me and we weren’t speaking, she always came through to help me, and keep me company – even when I didn’t expect or want her to. Think she knew that I needed her, despite my protestations to the contrary.

Plus, she did the same for me.

Unfortunately, she found out, which wasn’t ideal but still ok, as you’ll see.

It was actually a combo party with her and my coach, Chad, who also turned 30 a bit earlier.

Me: Are you ok with a combo?
Him: With my schedule, I kinda prefer it, actually.

Her co-worker Drea was a big help and picked up all the party favours and also two huge balloons that said: 3-0.

We started out at the same restaurant where we celebrated his getting a black belt.** It was all you could eat – both hot pot and BBQ.

After a while, two full tables couldn’t eat anymore while three people – me, Curt, and Chad – were still, somehow, eating.

Felt bad that everyone was waiting on us to finish so I asked them if we should wrap it up.

Chad: (waving his hand under his chin): Yeah, I’m done. I’m tapping out.
Me: I’ve never been so disappointed in you.
Curt: I’m not done!
Me: No one cares about you, Curt!
Curt: Shut up, Logan!
Me: You shut up!

So, Curt and I cleaned off the second-to-last plate. While everyone else got organized, I went over to Solas to make sure everything was ok with our reservations.

Mouse’s friend was there with his date when I walked in so I sat with them as the waitress walked over. He was supposed to bring her to dinner but because she found out – and he’s a vegetarian – I’d told him to just meet us there.

Her: Hi, I’m Janet and I’ll be your waitress tonight.
Me: Hi Janet – that’s Cha and his girl Jane. I’m Logan. (moving over) Take a seat and tell us about yourself.
Her: (laughs, shrugs, and sits down)

The rest of the the party meandered in and the whole party spent most of the night there as a number of people cycled in and out.

Now, this next bit’ll only make sense if I tell you that I took a hit to my mouth that looked like a cold sore.

Vazquez: (walking up to me) Were you making out with that girl in the corner?
Me: (shaking head) We were just talking – I left cause she was being handsy. What am I, an a_____e? I’m gonna make out with someone else at Mouse’s 30th? Plus, you think I’m insane? Mouse’d kill her, and then kill me – I gotta raise my kid and jail’s no place for her. Plus, I have this (pointing at lip). No, I’m just chatting up randos because I’m doing everything I can to avoid Mouse.
Him: Why, is everything ok?
Me: (takes him by the shoulders, incredulous) Have you seen her tonight?!? On a normal night, Mouse has my number. She’s insanely hot right now. I need you to stay until I leave cause I can’t be trusted around her. Full stop.

He did not stay.

Here’s a blurry shot of Mouse and Chad because this is mostly a family-friendly blog.

I’d like to say I made it blurry on purpose but really, it was because I was two sheets to the wind by the time I took it.

I’ll finish this up tomorrow or something.

Gotta find out where I left my liver. Wonder if there’s a lost-and-found box fulla livers.

Mine’d be one stinking of rum.

** Yes, I know I wrote that a co-worker got a promotion in this entry when really it was about Chad getting his black belt – I try to stay as truthful as possible in this blog without hurting other people. The latter bit’s why I lied.

See, our old coach was/is such a jealous nutcase that  we all knew he’d flip out if he knew we were hanging out without him.

Which he did, of course. It’s a major reason why we’re all not there anymore.

Location: our home
Mood: accomplished
Music: when you look at me like that, I don’t know how I feel

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