Tag: New York City

Categories
personal

Under advisement

Just walked in the door from a wedding of one of my oldest and dearest friends. We’re all different but ever the same. Aren’t the best friends the ones where you can just pick up where you left off – even it was years ago?

———-

A building around the way caught fire. HEI stops by for brunch but we’re captivated by the heat from flames. Quite something, those firemen.

Her: There’s always something happening around you!
Me: I like to keep you on your toes.

Friday night, meet up with PCD.

Her: Why do you have so many different types of plates and cups?
Me: (shrugging) Had lots of failed relationships
Her: (pause) That’s a lot sadder an answer than I was expecting.

End up walking around Columbia for a slice of Koronet Pizza and lounging on the steps to the library.

Her: I like you but…I’m seeing other people, you know…
Me: (nodding) I’ll take that under advisement.

Saturday, wrestle. PCD’s a little freaked out that I’m pretty much constantly covered with black and blue marks; I look like an abused child.

Saturday night, meet up with Heartgirl and some friends downtown. We end up alone, just after midnight, and chat.

Me: I’m sorry, I’m not up on the young people speak – what does that mean, Don’t catch emotion with me?
Her: It means don’t fall for me. (pause) I’m looking to date other guys.
Me: (nodding) I’ll take that under advisement.

I kiss her goodnight and she hops into a cab. We’re supposed to meet up Saturday but she’s always ditching so I don’t expect to actually see her. As I turn around, I lock eyes with two pretty blonds, smile and start chatting with them.

Me: …everyone’s got their front-runners and back-burners. But that’s my story with her (Heartgirl). Why don’t we talk about our story?
Her: (sarcastically) Well aren’t you confident?
Me: (grin) Quite.
Her: (laughing) I like that.
Me: (nodding) I’ll take that under advisement.

The wedding was beautiful. I’d like a wedding like that. Suppose, I’d have to find a girlfriend first, though…

Location: 23:00, walking alone down Broadway
Mood: fat ‘n content
Music: She’s my Brandy Alexander always gets me into trouble But that’s another matter

Categories
personal

1,000 Words

Location: apartment
Mood: rushed
Music: wait in driving rain For the bus that never came

Still gotta do my laundry at Rain’s for a buncha reasons too stupid to get into now. If you liked 72nd to Canal, he’s since moved on to other things. Check out this video and vote for him here.

Me: Turn around.

Him: Why?

Me: Cause I gotta wash the clothes I’m wearing.

Him: You’re not taking off your clothes in my apartment.

Me: (unbucking belt) Just turn around.

Him: You are not taking off your clothes in my apartment!

Me: It’ll be fine, just turn around. And hand me a towel?

Him: YOU ARE NOT TAKING OFF YOUR CLOTHES IN MY APARTMENT!

———-

My fourth of July was wet. Was on a friend’s rooftop with a bunch of people. Umbrellas all around.

Stood next to this blonde from Florida who was sure that I was younger than her but it turns out I’m eight years older. We exchanged numbers but don’t think I’m gonna ring her.

Got enough people and things on my mind as it is. Didn’t get to see any of the people I really wanted to see; which sounds about right.

The rest of the weekend was a blur. Tell you more but pictures are worth a thousand words.

Ergo, here’re 3,000 more words:

Categories
dating personal

Front-runners & Back-burners

So my date on Saturday was really fun. Here’s the kicker though – wasn’t with Heartgirl.

Friday night, meet up with Hazel, Paul, and WM in the UWS. Elle’s there with her two friends, one of whom wants to step up to this striking blue-eyed blond bombshell. He leaves without so much as a hello to her so I turn to her: Hi there – lemme tell you story, morning glory…

She’s super nice but she’s the same name as my mother plus Elle’s there; not that I think she cares but still. I tell her we’ll run into each other again and politely eject. Besides, I tell WM, as we exit and turn onto 79th Street, there’s always something ’round the corner.

Sometimes, quite literally. Cause I immediately lock eyes with a grey-eyed girlie outside a bar who grins at me and says, Hi there! WM rolls his eyes as I wink at her and say, Howdy.

Me: The best thing about NYC’s the random meetings, yeah?
Her: (smiles) Yeah. What’s your name?

We had a great conversation but, you guessed it: 22. Fail. Speaking of fail, Saturday, Heartgirl cancels. Again. I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t disappointed. Cause I don’t know her all that well, but what I do know, I like very much. Luckily, I’m not one to cry into my porridge:

Me: Dinner and a movie?
Pretty Cake Decorator: I’m not sure. I mean – I don’t really know you.
Me: (deep breath) This may not be the smartest idea I’ve ever had, but…my last name’s Lo. Google me.

She swings by and we end up watching two films and ordering in. We somehow find ourselves doing Stupid Human Tricks: I do a split and she touches the back of her head with her toes. We both end up laughing on the floor.

PCD: I’m glad I came over. (pause) But I can see this has potential for a lot of disappointment.
Me: (quietly) Well that’s…sad.

There’s that word again: disappointment. Isn’t that the worst, worst part of dating?

Heartgirl just told me why she couldn’t make it. It was a very good reason, actually. But there’s always a very good reason to bail, yeah? To quote HEI, everyone has their front-runners and back-burners. To add to that, sometimes you’re the front-runner, sometimes you’re the back-burner. Just how it shakes out.

While I think Heartgirl and I’ll always be friends, there’s never a really a good point to stick around, romantically, if you’re someone’s back-burner. Mrs. Lo didn’t raise any stupid sons.

Hopeless romantic ueber-nerds, yes. Stupid, no.

Cause I believe someone’ll see what you’re worth; you’ll be someone’s front-runner someday and she’ll be yours. Until then we all do just fine on our own.

Location: my pad
Mood: complacent
Music: I’m just gonna drive

Categories
personal

Profitable but clumsy

We’ve got to speed things up in this hotel. Chef, if a guest orders a three-minute egg, give it to him in two minutes. If he orders a two-minute egg, give it to him in one minute. If he orders a one-minute egg, give him a chicken and let him work it out for himself.

Groucho – A Night in Casablanca

I’m profitable for June. Only by a couplea hundred bucks. Still…tiny win is better than no win at all.

———-

Me: Sit on this side.
Her: (shaking head) No, that’s what they do in Portugal and I don’t like that.
Me: (rolling eyes) It’ll just mean that I’ve gotta lean across the table to kiss you. And I’m terribly clumsy. I mean, I’ll still do it and you’ll like it. I’m just saying, we’re taking a risk.
Her: (laughs) You’re a weirdo.

Had dinner at the Maritime Hotel on Wednesday with Heartgirl and drinks round the meatpacking district. We’re supposed to go to Kanvas but it shut down. Of course.

Also seeing her Saturday, which is a big deal cause: (a) Fridays and Saturdays are for your friends and significant others and (b) she’s still not over her ex. And yet…Saturday night. I’m stupid like that.

It’s hard coordinating schedules – I’m always busy when they’re free or vice versa. Haven’t seen CakeDecorator, Blue-Eyed Girl or anyone else in a week.

Scored a Classic Room at the Borgata tomorrow but no girlie I’m seeing has made it to that, Hey, let’s spend a night at a five star hotel together, level so I just gave the room away. Even though no throwing down would be involved, I highly doubt that any of the women I’m seeing’d believe me if I told them that.

Not sure I believe me, come to think of it.

Location: bed
Mood: satisfied
Music: Honestly what will become of me

Categories
dating personal

Awful Things

Not your ex

Her: You know what? I’m not your ex. I’m me. (long pause) You’ve never done awful things in your life, Logan?

 

Get a surprising message on Friday from someone I was dating. We opted to be friends and she calls to tell me something I really don’t wanna know. So, I’m disappointed in her. Then again, she called cause she needed a friend and I wasn’t the friend I should have been.

So, I’m disappointed in me.

Go out for the usual fun and games for Friday. Some girl keeps grabbing my butt so I bounce early. Saturday, wrestled. That’s a whole entry on it’s own. Then I go to my cousin’s wedding. Could do without everyone asking me when I’m getting married.

Orbit around Heartgirl all weekend; more misunderstandings between us. We’re supposed to meet up but something comes up so she bails. Thing is, I’m slightly glad we didn’t meet up cause who she is in my head might not be who she is at all.

Then again, I’m not the man they think I am at home.

Her: Hey…what are you doing up?
Me: I’m always up. I’m at 6th & A, heading home. Look…I’m calling to say that I’m sorry.
Her: Thanks. (pause) I’m really glad you called. I’m really glad.

That’s WM the night before. Heartgirl wanted to watch the Eurocup so I arranged it for a friend of mine to show it at her bar. Since Heartgirl didn’t come, WM came and we caught the game. And talked about our many regrets.

Paul, WM and I’re great at parties. Cause the people that’re really great at parties are the ones that just wanna forget the awful things.

Location: my bed
Mood: tired
Music: I think it’s gonna be a long, long time

Categories
dating personal

Too old

 

Don’t think I can write anything better than I wrote last year for him.

Her: Logan! You’re too old to date so much.
Me: (sighing) Tell me about it.

It rained all weekend. Go out late Friday. Usual twirl.

Went to a BBQ Saturday with a friend from church and she and I spend the day lounging on Roosevelt Island. Lived here my whole life and have never been – the tram was out so I’ve still never been on that. See a purple dog and get drenched on the way back. Later that night, see HEI and her friends for drinks.

I decide to get off that online dating website cause: (a) don’t have the time for it, (b) feel bad not responding to people, and (c) am tired of the disappointing and the being disappointed. So I go and delete all the emails I’ve gotten in the past month. But one from a pretty cake decorator stands out so I write:

My number’s 917.555.4810. Why don’t you text me as if we met last night so that we can say, quite honestly, that we met last night, I emailed you and then we texted back and forth for a bit. Because that’s what young singltons do in the big city, I think.

She does and we do all weekend. End up grabbing coffee on Sunday.

Here’s the thing: vegetarian. Not even pescatarian – full-on vegetarian. I oftentimes wonder if I’m part of some cosmic joke. But she has an easy laugh and a Georgia accent so we’ll see.

Not looking forward to work – I haven’t told most of you this but all my employees quit on me three weeks ago. Now one of them wants to come back.

After church on Sunday, Christianne and I walk home. We’re both waiting for our blue sky to come back and stay.

Location: the rent’s, getting ready for work
Mood: determined
Music: like seein’ you in my neighborhood I like the way you dress
Categories
personal

Value vs. Price

There’s a difference between Value and Price

Her: Do you like girls, Logan?
Me: (laughing) Why do you care?

Thursday, soak in HEI’s eyes over coffee and homemade yoghurt; again on Sunday over yellow rice and black beans.

Friday, I’m supposed to meet with the girl from last week but was stuck up round Spring Valley so we reschedule for the following week. On the way down to Hoboken, a client slips her number into my shirt pocket. I don’t keep it. There aren’t enough hours in a day.

3AM, Saturday morning, I’m sitting on a Gramercy stoop with a girlie who’s, quite literally, crying on my shoulder.

You know the difference between value and price? Price is whatever you say something is; the price of a glass of Cruzan Single Barrel Aged Rum is about $14 in the big city just because that’s what the pretty bartender says. Sometimes, if I smile just right at her, it’s $11. That’s just the price.

The value of a glass of Cruzan Single Barrel Aged Rum after a long summer day is…well, a lot more than $14. I tell the girl on the stoop to stop crying cause she’s confusing the two; someday, someone’ll see all she’s worth. Then I tell her about my two rules, say goodnight and take the long walk home.

3AM, Sunday, see Heartgirl in the sweltering heat of NYC and I also tell her about my two rules over a candlelit table. She looks at me, takes my face in her hands and pulls me into her green eyes.

Her: (whispering sweetly) Oh Logan…you’re so…dumb.

That sounds about right. We both laugh. I hail her a cab on 2nd Avenue and she’s gone in two lights.

I check my phone, delete a few things and take the long walk home again. There aren’t enough hours in a day.

Location: 20:00 yest, cooling in the cellar
Mood: so…freaking…hot
Music: Strolling the street we’re strangely complete

Categories
personal

No Sex and the City

Location: 22:43 yest, my desk with a glass of rum
Mood: confused
Music: maybe You’re gonna be the one who saves me

Her: I read your blog. It’s weird because it almost sounds like you’re giving me lines because you tell me the exact same things you say in your blog.
Me: It’s not like I take someone else’s words and pretend they’re my own – what I write is what I actually say to my friends in real life.

A buddy swings by on Friday for a visit but I don’t have much time to hang out. Spend the night watching the last James Bond flick (which rocks) with HEI and some takeout.

Saturday’s a strange day. Get caught in the rain before I head to a dinner party with the girl in the top pic from this entry when Syd’s lens cap falls into the subway tracks. Have to wait an hour for someone to fish it out. At the party, the toilet gets clogged and I’m the only one that tells the host about it. Course, people think I did it, but whaddya gonna do? Meet a blue-eyed girl whom I walk back and tell I’ll meet up for caramels. She says she’s game.

Because of the movie, lately a lotta people tell me that my life is like the male Sex and the City. Dunno – never seen an episode. Don’t understand why, though, it’s not like I sit around drinking pink drinks, gossiping all the time and jumping from bed to bed. It’s tough enough falling asleep in my own bed.

Besides, life is in the living – you should be living your real life and not watching someone else’s made up one, yeah?

Unless, of course, it’s James Bond.

———-

Yes, it looks like something interesting. It’s not, just friends.

Been wondering if the SING really exists. It’s the hopeless romantic in me; after thinking HeartGirl was her, now I keep wondering if I’ll ever run into her again. How ridiculous.

Categories
personal

You heart me

Her: I think you (draws a heart in the air) me. (laughs) Why does our meeting have to mean something? Can’t it just be we met and I just had too much to drink?
Me: Because I want so bad for it to mean something. That’s why you can’t be the girl.

Friday, meet up with WM and Paolo for a party at Duvet. Not my scene. We bounce and meet up with Elle and company for some rum and beer at Reservoir. Meet a girlie who thinks I look too young. I tell her I’m not.

On the subway going up, I bump into three lovely young German women, smile and say, Hallo, habe ich ein Witz fuer euch – ein Typ…usw, usw, usw…

Saturday, see the girl that I thought was the Ship in the Night Girl who says the above. We chat from midnight to four again before I put her in a cab and take the long walk home, just for old times sake. Walking home I think of something: this girl has green eyes. The SING had green eyes. I think. You see I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue.

Sunday, meet up with Rain downtown to do a month’s worth of laundry. He makes me stand on a plank of wood he’s cutting with a powersaw as my whites hit the rinse cycle. Later that night, attend Cappy’s wedding an upscale midtown Greek restaurant. I see friends I’ve not seen in 15 years. They ask me how I am and I lie and say I’m fine.

Outside, take a picture of the attractive hostess who looks up at the sky and tell her that I won’t take her number but I’ll give her mine. She smiles and says that very gentlemanly. It’s my turn to laugh as I hand her my card. Of course, she’s 21, but not, however, a pescatarian.

Her: I think you want the drama. You like the drama.
Me: I really, really, do not.
Her: What if it did mean something? But not what you were hoping. What if we did connect, but as friends?
Me: (laugh, lean into her ear) I think you heart me.
Her: (leans into my ear) That’s my line. You can’t take my line.
Me: I just did.

Location: 1993 in my head
Mood: melancholy
Music: It’s a little bit funny

Categories
personal

It’s me

I’m not an ill-willed person

Since I lost my phone, I ran through all my old messages.

I’m sorry I couldn’t come…
Mr. Logan, this is…

Hey, it’s me…

The last one stopped me cold.

In response to the person that sent me an email a while back, the answer is: 24 hours. Sometimes less than that. Sometimes it just takes one screwup to go from being someone that calls and says Hey it’s me, to being a complete stranger.

———-

Yesterday, was out in Brooklyn grabbing some court papers. Not fun. Sheridan had a dinner to attend and the hostess wrote to him, “Make sure you invite Logan Lo!” He laughed and said I had to come. It was another catered affair with wealthy lawyers, entertainment people and artists.

The hostess was trying to set up Sheridan with people. She said that she would say, That’s a lovely dress/outfit, to indicate that the lady was available. Clever. People said she fixed up Kevin Klein and Phoebe Cates. Who knows?

A French waitress I briefly dated was there completely by random. Literally, completely unexpected. She told me to call her; told her I would.

Bounced early with this clothing manufacturer because Sheridan got us into the Hamptons party in midtown. It was thrown by the same guys that threw this and this. Open bar, beautiful people, the usual song and dance. Walking around, bump into the French waitress again! Call me; I will.

John Leguizamo was the guest of honor – and the host mispronounced his name, which clearly pissed him off. Had a lot on my mind, and rum in my system, so I really wasn’t into it. Sheridan and hopped before midnight. Walking up 10th Avenue, I rang someone.

Me: Hey, it’s me.
Her: Hey.

Location: 9:10AM, kitchen making coffee & eggs
Mood: busy
Music: I am not an ill-willed person I do not wish bad things for you