Tag: dating

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Never have I ever…

Finding the things we look for

Forgot to mention that, while I was at my in-laws last week, we got onto the topic of how many pushups I could do in one minute.

I’d never tried to figure it out before so I cranked out about 60 in 45 seconds, but those last 15 seconds were agonizing. Agonizing.

I could only get out 19 more; try as I might, I could NOT get to 70 before my muscles gave out.

Which they did and I collapsed onto the floor. My son – god love him – was disappointed:

Him: For god’s sake, get up!
Me: (breathing heavily) Everyone’s a critic…

That’s my boy, folks.

During one of our late-night outings with copious amounts of legal pharmaceuticals, the Firecracker and I started playing a game of “Never have I ever.”

Gotta say, dating someone from the south is entertaining on so many levels.

Her: You’ve never been to a field party?
Me: I don’t even know what that is.
Her: It’s a party. In a field. With a bonfire.
Me: I figured out the first part on my own.
Her: My favorite one was on Moo Cow Lane.
Me: That’s not a real place.
Her: (laughing) Yes, it is!

So many levels.

On a different, but related, note. There are also lots of unexpected perks to dating another parent.

For example, she and her son came by the other day for a playdate. They’re close in age so they get along well.

Unfortunately, in the middle of it, my kid tapped me on the shoulder and said that he didn’t feel well. I figured he was just tired but then he said he had a sore throat so I gave him some Tylenol.

Her: Take his temperature.
Me: Not a bad idea, ok, hold on. (later) Shoot. 103.
Her: OK, we should go.

It was impressive, I gotta say, how her maternal instincts kicked in.

Tthought about that woman I briefly dated that said that she didn’t mind that I had a kid.

That woman and I got along great for the few times we saw each other but once she said that, I lost all interest.

Chatted with a buddy about it a few days after I ended it.

Him: Your kid’s so great, I’m sure she woulda come around.
Me: (shaking head) I couldn’t take that chance. My kid’s made of awesome; anyone who wouldn’t want someone like him in her life, I wouldn’t want in mine.
Him: (shrugging) Well, hopefully you’ll meet someone you like.
Me: I will. We all find the things we look for, good or bad, one way or another.

Location: this evening, running into two of the kid’s teachers from when he was a kid just off Broadway
Mood: potentially sick
Music: always been the weird one out, fucking up that little town (Spotify)
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Hurt you so badly

Better off now

After the night out with the Firecracker and her friend, neither of us could make it to the Frenchman’s karaoke thingy the next day.

Me: (next morning) I think I’m still drunk.
Her: I need a Tylenol.
Me: Why are we even awake?!

But we were scheduled to meet up with her sister and her sister’s fella, both of whom lived across the street from her.

We ended up meeting up at a bar for an afternoon drink, not too far from the tiki bar we were the night before.

The Firecracker and I each got a rum and diet coke – plus wings for me – while they got beers and a huge pretzel for their kid, which made me think of Germany.

Her sister and fella were super cool and grabbed the bill, which was super nice of them.

Afterward, I was hungry for more wings, so we spent a solid 45 minutes walking around the hood looking for more wings, which I ultimately found.

A young couple were arguing – well, the fella was being yelled at by his girl – and the girl asked me what I thought.

Her: (turning to me) What do you think?! Am I right or is he?
Me: I’m just trying to get some wings here, lady…
Her: No, no, no, is he right or am I?
Me: (shaking head) I can’t say. I can say that communication isn’t what you’re saying but what he’s hearing. And he – and everyone else here – is just hearing you yell at him, kid.

There’s a lot more to this story but I’ll end it here.

The next day, I went out to NJ to get the boy from my in-laws.

MIL: We’re having pasta, salad, and garlic bread.
Me: I’m not saying no to any of that.

He went out with his guitar to practice and bringing it back was a bit of a pain, but worth it because he had plenty of time to practice.

As you might imagine, the Firecracker and I chat quite a bit now.

I find it odd because the weird commonality of the women I met after Alison have all had very sad stories to tell.

Wonder if it’s something about me that either attracts people with sad stories or perhaps they feel safe because I have my own – obscenely – sad stories.

Perhaps it’s a bit of both.

Me: I’m sorry.
Her: Nothing to be sorry about. I’m better off now.
Me: (shaking head) I’m sorry the world hurt you so badly, Firecracker.
Her: (nodding) I’m sorry the world hurt you so badly, Lo.
Me: Yeah…

Location: this afternoon, Blue Bottle with the pastor, disagreeing about cruising
Mood: contemplative
Music: this should be a crime and I’m ready to do the time (Spotify)
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More bonus I didn’t want

Having a home cooked meal at home

Me: With every tragedy, you get bonus tragedies.
Her: What are bonus tragedies?
Me: (shaking head) All the other shit that comes with your initial tragedy. Like, I assume after a divorce, there’s all this stupid paperwork you have to do. And you have to move. And you have to explain what happened to people. It’s all bullshit bonus. I’m sorry.

Getting the kid a passport is different for me than most parents. I know this because my sister just got passports for her kids.

Both parents have to sign off on getting a kid a passport so that one parent can’t secretly do it, receive the passport, and abscond with the child.

But when you’re a widower, you have to bring in proof that you’re a widower. Which means that I have to dig up both my marriage license and Alison’s fucking death certificate.

Lemme tell you – because I hope it’s a lifetime before you have to do such a thing – looking for, finding, and then touching something like a death certificate for someone you loved deeply is about emotionally equivalent to touching a hot pan repeatedly.

It’s not gonna kill you but fuck all if it doesn’t hurt like hell.

Like I said, it’s all bullshit bonus for shit you didn’t want in the first place.

Clerk: Here’s his picture! I do this a lot but, wow, your son’s super cute.
Me: Thanks. He…he takes after his mom.

The Firecracker wanted to cook dinner for me the other day, so she stopped by and took over the kitchen.

The last time someone cooked dinner for me in my own apartment was years ago.

Gotta say, it was nice. More than nice.

Me: I was gonna say that I was worried it would be dry since you didn’t brine it, but these came out great. Did you use a thermometer?
Her: (shaking head) No, just practice.

She found this bobby pin in my room and I could tell it bothered her.

Me: It’s definitely old. I have no idea who left it here.
Her: But why is it out?
Me: The kid probably put it there.
Her: But why do you even have it?
Me: (shrugging) I hate throwing things away. It seems wasteful. Just a poor kid’s mentality. (joking) I should really have a lost and found for all the rando jewelry and stuff that people leave here.
Her: (glares)
Me: This is probably a good time for me to stop talking. I should probably shut up. I’ll shut up now. (pause) I don’t know why I’m still talking.
Her: (nodding) Yeah…

If anyone’s looking for my foot, I found it in my mouth.

Her: It’s fine. We’ve only known each other four weeks.
Me: In my defense, you said, “Let’s not give this a name.”
Her: I know what I said, Lo. I’m allowed to change my mind.
Me: (nodding) Yes, yes you are.

Location: running into friends around Staples, asking how they were doing
Mood: pensive
Music: All of my demons keep me wide awake (Spotify)
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What we could be

Looking for green flags

Firecracker: I like you and you like me and we’re trying to see what we could be.
Me: Oh, that rhymes.
Her: I know, I said it.

While I still believe that most of my luck is of the stripe that no one wants, I do gotta say that I feel lucky that I meet so many good souls in my life.

My buddy CoB makes a number of appearances in this blog and in my life in general.

I’ll just be doing one rando thing or another and I’ll get a completely non sequitur message from her that comes outta nowhere.

Case in point, she sent me the following images while telling me about what was going on her life.

Her: Took myself out after [after an awful day]. I DESERVE A RESTAURANT WEEK LUNCH!
Me: You def do! (later) OMG, you just massively changed my dinner plans. I was going to take the Firecracker to a casual bar thingy but you reminded me that it’s restaurant week so now we’re heading to The Library at The Astor – thanks to you!
Her: Ohhhhh I love that place! Have all the funz!

I was in NJ, dropping the kiddo off at my in-laws and rushing for time. The Firecracker and I met up around me as I got ready in 10 minutes, and we headed down to Astor Place together.

Her: Are you trying to impress me with your directional skills?
Me: God, no. I would get lost in a sealed paper bag.

Neither she nor I had ever been to The Library. One massive plus of going to a nice joint is that it’s usually less crowded.

It turns out that we share a lot of the same tastes in food except for three major things:

      • Most of my diet consists of some form of peanut butter – after all, the kid and I go through close to two pounds of the stuff per week. She cannot stand the sight nor smell of it.
      • She doesn’t like Indian food.
      • She can’t handle spicy food.

Buddy: Dude, I swear to god, if you mess this up over peanut butter…
Me: How dumb do you think I am?
Him: (stares)
Me: Fair…

Finally, she’s very good at expressing herself, which I really appreciate. I think I’ve spent years talking with people but never actually communicating with them.

Her: You know, instead of looking for red flags, maybe look for green flags.
Me: Green flags?
Her: (nodding) Reasons to do this thing instead of not.
Me: Well, you do have a lotta those, Firecracker.
Her: As do you, Logan Lo.


Location: late this afternoon, getting midday drinks in midtown
Mood: always hungry
Music: If we never met, I’d be drunk, waking up in someone else’s bed (Spotify)
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Daydreaming of more

The CRKT Knife Kit

Me: Well, Firecracker, don’t you look nice.
Her: (laughing) Oh, I love the way you talk, Logan Lo.

Forgot to mention that I headed out to my mom and sister for Lunar New Year.

It was good seeing family. Gotta remember to do that more often and more regularly.

Like always, the hours drag but the years sprint away.

Met up with the Firecracker for an early morning burger the other day as well, after I dropped the kid off at school.

Me: This used to be a joint called The Royal Canadian Pancake House that sold pancakes as big as [a trashcan lid].
Her: That sounds ridiculous.
Me: (nodding) Totally was.

Like I said, there’s something incredibly convenient about seeing someone from the hood.

The fact that she’s sweet, smart, and hot doesn’t hurt.

Her: Let’s not give this thing a name, Lo. I like things how they are.
Me: (nodding) That’s fine. I take direction well.

Later that week, I brought her a salad because she was working from home and was down for company.

We’re finding that, with the exception of a couple bright-line differences, we seem to live similar lives.

Me: I also brought you some bread.
Her: (shaking head) You’re sweet but I don’t generally eat carbs. Usually just a protein and veggies.
Me: OMG, that’s exactly like me.

She makes me laugh because she only ever calls me by my full name, “Logan Lo,” or just “Lo.”

She reminds me of the kids in Peanuts that call Charlie Brown by his full name, or Calvin and Hobbes calling Susie Derkins, “Susie Derkins.”

I only ever call her the Firecracker because I know three people with the exact same name as her.

Plus, I think it’s apropos to her personality.

We’re breaking all our rules around each other for some reason. For example, she introduced me to both her dad and sister, as well as her kid, something that she doesn’t normally do.

I break rules for her too but that’s something I’ll just keep to myself.

 

Part of being a single-father is finding things that the kid and I can both do together.

I got him this wooden knife kit just to have something to do with him and was excited to put it together with him and talk about things like knife safety and such.

Unfortunately, he didn’t really understand that it was supposed to be a him-and-me thingy and he gave it to his sitter to put together with him.

Tried my best to hide my disappointment – after all, it was my fault that I didn’t tell him that it was a him-and-me thing – but I was still bummed that we couldn’t do it.

Still, I like this little life he and I have together.

But I daydream of more.

I wonder if “more” is in the cards for a fella like me.

Me: Thanks.
Her: For what?
Me: (shrugging) It’s nice having someone to daydream about. It’s been a long time since I could daydream about anyone without it hurting.
Her: (nodding) Yeah…

Location: earlier tonight, being told some bad news in NJ
Mood: so mad
Music: In my scarecrow dreams, when they smash my heart into smithereens (Spotify)
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OK, Boomer Logan

Yatzee

Her: Do you know what I wanna do right now?
Me: Yatzee?
Her: (laughs) I wanna watch Scenic Fights!

The Firecracker actually has a son slightly older than my own kid. While this was a bit surprising, it wasn’t really an issue for me.

Her: Am I your first MILF?
Me: (thinking) I think so?

Previously, I’d never entertained the thought of dating anyone with a kid just because I’d never done anything like that before.

But my buddy Miller extolled the virtues of it.

Him: Are you kidding? That’s the best. You have a built in playdate!
Me: I dunno.
Him: Expand your horizons! You have a kid, why shouldn’t she?

Only two people I’ve ever dated met the kid.

Personally, I think that the more good souls the kid meets, the better, but I understand her point of view, which is that she doesn’t want her kid to get super attached to a fella only to have him disappear.

She dated a few people before me but no one ever met her kid.

But my own kid and I had a weekend class thingy just a few blocks from her house.

Me: Do you have any interest in randomly running into me and my son on Saturday at 2:45 in the park?
Her: Maybe?
Me: Works for me.

Already had a full morning with the kid, and then the gym, and then this kid’s party thingy, and then a party with some other friends of mine so I was already packed to the gills.

What was one more wrinkle?

The gym was fun…for the most part.

Me: (bluffing) You got nuthin!
Him: OK, Boomer!
Me: (mock offended)  I’m GenX!
Him: (laughing) OK, Boomer!
Me: I’m gonna kill you!

After the gym, we were running late so I brought the kid to the local McD’s around the corner.

Me: I’ve failed as a parent.  (later) We’ll be at [the park] by 2:30 but I’m sure we’ll message beforehand.
Her: I’m positive you’ll message me before then.
Me: Don’t be so sure! You think I like you *that* much?
Her: Yup.

30 minutes later, I’m in the park and I see her come in with her son. She sits down and we “introduce” ourselves. After a little while, our kids start to interact.

It’s really quite cool, I must say.

We were out there in freezing cold for a solid two hours – I think some of the other parents were wondering what was going on.

Afterward, the kid and I walked them halfway home before heading to our last destination of the day.

Me: (holding out hand) It was lovely meeting you, Ms. Firecracker, and you too Little Firecracker.
Her: (taking hand) Nice meeting you Logan Lo, and you as well.

And then the boy and I went on our final adventure for the day but I’ll tell you about that tomorrow or something.

My normal modus operandi when I meet someone I really like is to immediately find 2-5 other people to date, if I’m not already seeing anyone else, so that I’m not obsessing over one person.

That’s served me well for decades. After all, I’m aware of how a lotta things work, particularly myself.

But I’m still upgrading my OS and trying to do things differently.

In fact, for the first time, I went the other way around, in a manner of speaking.

Like always, I’ll let you know how it goes.

Location: earlier today, reading the NY Times with the Firecracker
Mood: curious
Music: can’t help but fall right in, I don’t even stand a chance (Spotify)
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The other shoe

Aware of how things work

Her: I guess I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Me: Do you know where that saying came from? It came from packed tenement housing here in NYC back in the day. Mothers would put their kids to sleep and, late at night, a labourer would come home and loudly drop their shoe in the apartment, waking up the kids and making life hell for the family below them. But the worst part was when they took their time taking off the other shoe. These exhausted women would sit in their apartment, rocking their crying kid, and screaming in their heads, “Just drop the other fucking shoe already!”
Her: (thinking) You should be on a game show.
Me: I was.

The Firecracker came by the other night for dinner and I made some Fish Meunière, with cauliflower rice and a salad, which she seemed to enjoy.

Her: That was really good! (later) Although, I would have done a better job.
Me: What the hell?
Her: (laughing) I cook, Logan! When you make dinner for women that don’t cook, they’re gonna think that everything you make is great.
Me: (grumble)

Like I said, there was something familiar about us to each other but, at least, she figured out part of the reason I was familiar to her.

But I’ll tell you that part in a sec.

She also has a dog, but a very small one. That’s more of an issue than anything else.

First, I gotta say that having someone you’re dating live ten minutes from your pad is a game-changer.

Mainly, because we can do last-minute, unplanned things like lunch at the local diner.

Which is what we did the next day when I went over to her pad and chilled out while she got ready.

Her: I gotta blow-dry. It’s gonna get loud.
Me: I’m aware of how blow dryers work.
Her: I’m just telling you!

While she was getting ready, we just made some small talk as we were still getting to know each other.

Her: Which one?
Me: (laughing) Cash Cab.
Her: Cash Cab?! I loved that show! Really?
Me: Yeah, Google “Logan and Masa on Cash Cab.”

She did exactly that and, presently, I was in this stranger’s apartment watching myself on her television while she got ready.

It was all very surreal.

Her: I remember that episode! I remember you!
Me: Get outta town.
Her: No, really, I remember that episode and watching it. I swear I thought you looked familiar.
Me: That’s nuts.
Her: The first stop after I brush my teeth is your face.
Me: Good first stop.

The actual lunch was a bit nuts. We had just sat down and ordered at my local diner when I got word that I had to grab my son earlier than expected.

Me: I’m so sorry, I gotta dine and dash.
Her: No problem. Do you want me to drop it off later?
Me: Sure!

But after I got the boy, he asked for a playdate with onea his friends.

Me: You just got back!
Him: Please?!

So, I rang his friend’s dad, who told me to drop him off for a couplea hours.

Then I dashed back to see the Firecracker, who was still sitting having a cup of coffee.

Her: Hey, you’re back.
Me: I’m back. (thinking) Man, I shoulda thrown a scene, tossed a few things around, and then come back sheepishly apologizing.
Her: (laughs) Just sit down and eat.
Me: Done. I’m starving.

One of the earliest entries I ever wrote in this blog was a philosophical question as to the nature of hope.

Was/Is it the ultimate good or the ultimate evil?

After everything, I think it’s the latter. Hope brings us to such great heights, only to have us fall and almost crush us. The greater the hope, the greater the fall.

Every time I think, This time, it’ll be different, I’m always shown that it’s not.

And so, I try my best to just live and not hope any more. As much as any human can do, anywho.

Suppose I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, cause it always does.

But as much as I try not to hope that my life might possibly be different, I can’t help but do it.

And that just makes everything worse.

Location: earlier today, waiting in the rain with the boy for the next train to Manhattan
Mood: exhausted
Music: everything looks perfect from far away, come down now (Spotify)
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This is going well

Hello, Firecracker

I don’t write about most of my dates these days because social media in 2023 is a lot different than in was in 2006 and people get annoyed, even if there’s no real identifying information.

But also because they all start blending together into that soupy grey I dislike so much.

The same, “So, what do you do, who do you know, blah, blah, blah,” gets monotonous.

Me: So, Jane, what brought you to New York?
Her: Ann. My name is Ann.
Me: (nodding) This is going well.

But every so often, someone cuts through the hazy grey and gives me some colour.

I cancelled two other dates this week, although one was kinda mutual, but something about the blue-eyed blonde from my neighborhood made me not, despite my not feeling the best, what with all the medical issues popping up.

Plus, she really made everything super easy for me by agreeing to meet up at a bar just a few blocks south of my pad.

She was sitting at the bar in red with her back to me when I showed up. The seat next to her was open so I slid into it.

She turned to me and looked at me with eyes the colour of faded blue jeans. And you know I’ve always loved that.

We both looked at each other and laughed.

Her: (smiling) Hi, Logan!
Me: (laughing) Hello, Firecracker. Don’t you look nice.
Her: You too.

With some dates, conversation’s a struggle.

The actual exchanges are usually fine but it’s really the quality of the segues that make a conversation interesting or desultory.

Lemme tell you that the odds are much improved when someone has an easy laugh and upbeat enthusiasm.

Confidence helps…

Her: (mischievously) Anything you want to tell me?
Me: I take it you found the blog?
Her: (laughing) It’s the first thing that showed up when I googled you.
Me: (shrugging) I never mention it because it’s so easy to find.
Her: You date a lot.
Me: (nodding) I do. I like to say that I’m like Harvard. Anyone can apply, not everyone makes the cut.

..but like I’ve always said, the truth is a powerful thing. And true things are often funny and earnest at the same time.

Her: I’m like this dorky girl that’s attractive
Me: (chidingly) Ah, you admit you’re hot.
Her: Oh yeah, I’m hot.

Actually brought her to the same two bars that I brought my buddy, the Frenchman. Just because it was familiar and easy.

Too much of my life, lately, has been strange and difficult.

Me: Do you want to go to another bar?
Her: So, I take it this is going well?
Me: This is going well. (shaking head) Shit, I’m in trouble.
Her: Because I’m a buxom blonde?
Me: Well, yes. And you’re sweet. I like kindness. Kindness is hot because douchebag is forever.

I told her to eat the dried lime. That was a huge mistake.

We first met up at 7PM and didn’t call it a night until 3AM. Those are the types of interactions I hope for and it’s so rare it happens.

Even when it does, it doesn’t really mean anything.

Her: You’re an onion. [Every time I think I get you, there’s another layer.]
Me: I’ll take that as a compliment. (later) Thanks for a lovely evening.
Her: Same.
Me: I honestly never do this but…I don’t suppose you want to grab dinner [this week]?
Her: (smiling) Sure. It’s a date. Goodnight, Logan Lo.
Me: (nodding) Goodnight, Firecracker.

But hope springs eternal.

Location: earlier today, wondering if 9AM’s too early for a burger on Broadway. It wasn’t.
Mood: cautious
Music: me and luck had a dance but when it comes to you and me: No guts, no glory (Spotify)
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Another (almost) trip to the ER

It’s a date

On the night I taught the class, I took a heel to my forehead from one of the guys and saw stars.

The guy was apologetic – it was an accident, after all – but he’s been pretty wild before. I did manage to get the tap after we resumed so there’s that.

Fast forward a few days and I woke up with some eye irritation and a lot of floaters so my doctor brother strongly suggested that I get that looked at.

Didn’t wanna go back to the ER for the millionth time so I called a buncha places with no luck but then I found a place just a few blocks south of my pad on W 79th. They closed in 40 mins.

Receptionist: When can you get here?
Me: 20 mins? Less, maybe.
Her: Run!

So, I did.

Before I knew it, I was on the ground floor of a beautiful townhouse and getting stuff pointed and sprayed into my eye.

Honestly, I’m thrilled that I managed to find him versus having to head to the ER. And within walking running distance to boot.

Some 40 minutes later, I was being checked out. I was the last patient of the day so the doc and I got to talking.

Turns out that we had a lot in common as I shared what happened with my dad and Alison.

Him: You’ll be fine. No detached retina. The floaters will be a problem for a while but not much to do there.
Me: That’s a relief.
Him: I’m glad we met. Come back for a checkup in 4-6 weeks and we’ll chat some more.
Me: Sure thing, doc.

He dilated my pupils so getting home was an adventure in itself.

Almost got hit by a car more than once. It was like walking outside and staring right at the sun. Had something similar happen before I started writing this blog.

Maybe I’ll tell you about it sometime.

Driver: WTF is wrong with you?! Are you @#$@# blind?
Me: Well, yeah, actually…

Speaking of beautiful things in my neighborhood, there’s this effervescent blonde from my neighborhood that I met recently.

She found something familiar about me and I, her.

Her: You really are so easy on the eyes.
Me: My mom thinks I’m dreamy.
Her: She has good taste.

After the GES all those years ago – and the fact that I had to avoid my fave bar for a few years because I kept running into women I dated there – I had a rule to not date women in my area.

GES was the last one, and that was 16 years ago.

edit: Actually, the Aerialist was the last one but that was so quick that I forgot about it.

But I’m trying some new things these days. Plus, her particular charms helped encourage me to break my rule(s).

The kicker was that she lived steps from the doc.

Her: I can meet you for a drink [that] evening. We can keep it local since it’s convenient for both of us.
Me: Perfect. Let’s do that. We’ll work out details today/tomorrow but it’s a date.
Her: Those are three magical words: “It’s a date.” So full of possibilities.

Location: earlier today, W 77th and Broadway, making plans
Mood: good
Music: a chance, it’s worth taking (Spotify)
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Single-serving friends

A late-night walk in Hoboken

It’s been busy lately with a lot of comings and goings. Nothing really noteworthy; honestly, all the faces and names start to blend together.

Still, I was out in Hoboken the other day to meet up with someone but she was running late.

Her: I’m just aborting my current mission, shouldn’t be too late.
Me: Your phrasing made me laugh.

Since I had time, I found myself walking around Hoboken like I did Jersey City the other night in fall.

Dunno why I revisit these things but I do.

Of course, I found myself in front of Alison’s apartment.

Remembered when I first visited there and the day we moved her stuff out. It seems like both yesterday and a lifetime ago.

Wanted to ring the bell because there was a tiny (crazy) part of me that hoped maybe she’d answer. But the saner bits of my brain won out.

Barely.

Probably for the best, otherwise, I’da been arrested.

As for the girl, we met up at a restaurant I’d never been to.

It was a nice night. She was easy on the eyes, which helped.

Her: I wore this for you.
Me: Trust me when I tell you that I appreciate it.

We ended up hanging out and chatting for about five hours and hit up a few different places before she gave me a lift in her whip.

It was after midnight when I finally went to bed.

To be honest, it was a really fun and interesting night. But, like the narrator says in Fight Club, these are all single-serving friends; her for me and me for her.

It was a one-and-done, like most of these nights go.

Me: We’re both looking for something we can’t put into words.

It’s fine. We all know the rules of the game.

Lviv dropped me a line the other day as well to wish me a Happy New Year.

She and her fella moved outta state and they seem to be doing well. I wonder if things would be different if we met now instead of then.

It’s strange, you never can tell who stays in your Venn Diagram and who leaves.

Her: I’m sure something good is coming your way 🙂
Me: Thanks, Lviv! Here’s hoping…

Here’s hoping.

Location: earlier tonight, on West 94th Street, playing Taboo
Mood: hoping
Music: I been looking for a new ride (Spotify)
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