Memories with old friends
I’d just thought of Rain the other day because I met up with someone for coffee right outside his old pad. It was fine and we had a good time sitting outside chatting when we just casually got up and walked away.
Later on that night, I got hit with my usual insomnia and thought that I did a dine-and-dash.
The joint opened at 6AM so I called them as soon as I woke up and spoke to the waitress – who was the same one that was there when Rain was there – to try to pay the bill over the phone.
Her: What are you asking me?
Me: Did I pay the bill?
Her: Yeah. Don’t worry. (later) You’re Rain’s friend, right? Tell him we hope he’s happy.
For some reason, that whole interaction made me happy all day.
A few days later, I got a mass email from Rain. Like always, I looked at it like kismet.
The thing that always bums me out is the futility and meaningless of life.
But, every once in a while, I wonder if all might mean something.
It’s weird, how old friends seem to hit you up at just the right time.
I’ve hung out with more waitresses than you could possibly imagine. Alison and Mouse were both waitresses once – although not when I met them – as were any number of the women I hung out with like Daisy, Artistgirl, HEI, just off the top of my head.
Was trying to figure a place to meet up with someone downtown when I remembered a joint on St. Marks that Rain loved called Stingy Lulus.
It was cheap diner food that was good, not great, but plentiful. Our buddy Larry would always order the cheese fries with chili after 1AM.
The waitresses there were all drag queens but it was New York so it wasn’t a good or bad thing, merely a thing.
I remembered that I met up with Rain one night there because I needed to kill some time before meeting up some other college friends at this place nearby called Village Yokocho. I was dating a doctor, on-and-off, at the time.
She moved to Cali so the two of us could really try to give the breakup a go.
Rain told me that that night that, while he liked the doctor, he didn’t see the two of us together. And then he left and I headed to Yokocho afterward where I ended up chatting up a waitress there and going on a couple of dates with her.
It was cold on one of them so I gave her my favourite scarf. Never got it back because we both ghosted each other.
We’re actually FB friends now but I figure that scarf is long gone. Besides she’s married with kids and it’d be weird to hit her up outta the blue to ask for my old scarf back.
I feel like I don’t remember much of my life before 2015.
But rando memories are rushing up to greet me now. I’d completely forgotten about everything I told you – Stingy Lulu’s, late nights with Rain and company, Yokocho, etc – and it all hit me at once.
I’ve lived so many different lives in 17,500 days. I was someone very different, once. Not better or worse, merely different.
Actually, I was definitely someone worse – even more vain, argumentative, and shallow than I am now – but I was also someone with some great friends and a really cool wool scarf.
Man, I miss that scarf.
Me: I’m not sure you woulda liked the person I once was.
Her: How different could you be?
Me: So different. I guess I keep reinventing myself, hoping that this time, I’ll be who I’m supposed to be with the life I’m supposed to have. (thinking) I think that maybe I was only who I was supposed to be once in all this time.
Her: What happened?
Me: It’s too early to trade our sad stories, darling. Hey, have you ever dined-and-dashed?