The Girl Before Alison
Used to take the PATH all the time to see the ex before Alison.
You know, I started this blog 16 years ago because of that ex. How silly it all seems now.
After all these years, I never gave her a name so let’s call her the Girl Before Alison.
Anywho, I used to go to the GBA’s house alla time. Like every weekend, she’d head over to mine or I’d head over to hers. For years.
But walking up the stairs out of the Jersey City Grove Street Station, I didn’t remember a single time I did it to see her. Not a one.
Then again, I didn’t remember heading there in 2013 with Alison and I desperately wished I did.
This time around, I walked down the streets to meet up with Blond Banker, marveling at all the buildings but remembering none of them.
It’s like I peeked into someone else’s life, not my own.
Arriving at Barcade, I saw Blond Banker and immediately started chatting with her and some other people there.
Woman there: Here’s a [blank] name tag for you to write your name.
Me: Do I have to put my real name?
Her: …no?
Two women I met that night both lived within two blocks of my pad on the UWS; one lived some 300 feet from my pad.
Me: NO WAY!
Her: I’m serious. I used to live XXX.
Me: Wait, next door is where I took kali for 17 years.
Her: Really!?
Everyone was very nice but I was too in my head. After a while, Blond Banker and I were hungry so we decided to get something to eat.
We were headed to a Thai joint when she asked if I wanted to eat at the rooftop bar at Porta so in we went.
Honestly, while John’s of Times Square is cool, Porta was gorgeous and looked better than John’s. That’s something.
We ordered a plate of meatballs…
…and a pizza.
Her: You’ve never had an arugula pizza?
Me: They just put a salad on top of a pizza? (shrugging) Actually, it’s fine. I’ll eat it.
It ended up being pretty good. She only had a slice or so and half a meatball so I ate almost everything and was still hungry afterward. Of course.
We chatted about life in general and dating in the city.
Me: Honestly, as an attractive blond woman, I feel you could have your pick of men.
Her: (rolls eyes) I hate the apps.
There’s more but I’m trying to keep things to my story alone, where possible.
She called an Uber after a bit and we sat on a bench looking at yet another pizza restaurant and chatting while we waited.
It was late when she hopped into the car to head home.
I was right at the entrance for the Grove street station to head back to my world when something compelled me to walk down the street I used to walk with the GBA.
Y’know…I don’t remember what the GBA looks like anymore. I don’t think I’ve seen a picture of her in well over a decade. I do remember her voice though.
I’d been drinking so it was a bit like sleepwalking, but I started walking down Grove Street past the station and found myself in 2002 again; two decades ago, when I was a much younger man
I wasn’t yet the story that people whisper to each other, “Oh, did you hear about what happened to Logan?!”
But I’ll tell you about that tomorrow because this is getting long again.
Location: last night, Astoria, celebrating a buddy’s 30th birthday at a beirgarten until late
Mood: so tired
Music: I wish I could hit rewind (Spotify)
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