Tag: random meetings

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personal

A celebration and then karaoke

So funny and great

After the Hudson Yards, the Firecracker invited my brother and his girl to a celebration that she was having.

I got there first, where I met a whole buncha her friends, including another lawyer.

Him: …Yale. You?
Me: Cornell. Which, in the original Algonquin, I believe means, “Couldn’t make it into Yale.”

It was a pretty low-key thing at a local bar that I’d been to tons of times before.

Had my fill of bar food. Well, I had bar food. I coulda eaten more.

The Egyptian boyfriend of one of her friends and I got to talking about food.

Him: It’s not Egyptian but if you like shawarmas the best places are in Astoria.
Me: Way ahead of you, man.

I would honestly go to Europe just to eat shawarmas/gyros everywhere.

It was fun and everyone was nice but then it was time for us to leave.

I expected to head home afterward but my brother and his girl wanted to go to karaoke so who was I to tell them not to?

Brother: Wait, do you wanna come?
Me: Well, I don’t *want* to come but…
Firecracker: Karaoke!
Me: Yes?

So, the Firecracker and I went with them to midtown.

After just a few minutes, we found ourselves at a joint called Duet 53 where everyone sang a song and I tried to finish a huge bottle of sake.

Couldn’t do it.

My brother and his girl hung out until 6AM – hoo-boy – but the Firecracker and I called it by 1AM.

Although, she would probably had stayed out if given the option.

Her: Ready to go home, old man?
Me: God, yes…

Interestingly, on the way back home – in the middle of the night – met another couple who saw my cousin’s show on Broadway, Shucked.

She raved about it.

Woman: You have to see it now, before it wins a buncha awards and tickets are sold out everywhere.
Me: Oh, that’s high praise, I’ll definitely need to tell my cousin.
Her: And watch it! It’s so funny and great.
Firecracker: We should go see it!
Me: (laughing) Ok, ok, I’ll try to get us some tickets.

Like I always say, New York City’s like a small town a lot.

Location: Janovic paints, buying new paint for my apartment.
Mood: grateful I survived another May
Music: I’ve never lived a simple life (Spotify)
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Catching lunch at the Hudson Yards

A last-minute get-together

Her: At least you can drive.
Me: Drive? I’ve been driving for 35 years.
Her: (laughing) I was barely alive when you started driving! (laughing harder) I’m dead, I’m dead.
Me: (grumble)

My brother was in town again with his new girl…

…so, the Firecracker and I met up with the two of them at Hudson Yards, along with KTO.

It was a very last minute thing since we weren’t planning on meeting up until later in the week but everyone just happened to be free that day so off we went.

Haven’t been to Hudson Yards in a while for a buncha reasons but I was looking forward to going for the first time in a long while.

We met up at Mercado Little Spain there and had some tapas, again.

I’d never been before but it was essentially the entire basement area in one of the buildings so that was surprising.

Ended up having some mussels…

…and a killer mushroom, onion, and date sammie.

Afterward, we all piled into a bus that brought everyone to another restaurant directly across the street from the Firecracker – which was totally by happenstance.

Later on that week, the Firecracker had a small celebration of her own for personal reasons and my brother and his girl came out for that.

But I’ll tell you about that tomorrow.

May’s almost over. I’m relieved.

Location: My basement, taking measurements and hoping for the best
Mood: hating today
Music: I will love you until my dying day (Spotify)
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A trip to Queens, Pt 1

Lu Rou Fan

Firecracker: Wait, you didn’t mention that I was the one who thought you might have left your phone at Dark Bullet, called them, and found your phone for you?
Me: …no?

The Firecracker really does love to cook.

Mentioned to her that I’d not eaten Taiwanese food in a while so she ended up making me a dish I absolutely love called lu rou fan.

Her: I’ve never had it before so I didn’t know what it should taste like.
Me: (shaking head) It’s still good though. And these endives are killer – how did you cook them?
Her: I blanched the shit outta them.

What she made was good, but it didn’t really taste like lu rou fan – I think the recipe she chose wasn’t the best so I wanted to take her out to try the genuine article.

Now, I’d been meaning to see my mom and sis for a while now but my sister’s the most peripatetic person I know; trying to see her and her kids is a lesson in scheduling.

Mom: You know your sister – she’s like a horse, always running around.
Me: Isn’t that the truth!

But I figured that it was time they met The Firecracker and my sister just happened to be in town last weekend, so I grabbed the kid, met up with the Firecracker, and headed out to the wilds of Queens.

Usually, I can take the train straight to see them but, because of construction, we had to transfer in Woodside.

Her: I think we should be on another track.
Me: Nah, it’s gonna be this one.

It was not.

So, because I didn’t listen to her, we missed the transfer and waited half-an-hour for the next one.

Me: Oh man, I’m so sorry. I was wrong and you were right.
Her: God, I love how that sounds!
Me: (grumble)

Because I screwed up so badly, and because I’ve been dreaming of Taiwanese food non-stop since the Firecracker made me the lu rou fan, I brought them to a Taiwanese restaurant literally right across the street from the Korean joint that Pac brought me to, years ago.

Neither of them ever had Taiwanese food before so I did all the ordering.

I got the classic pork chop on rice with lu rou fan, some pork stuffed crepes, soup dumplings, an egg scallion pancake and a soy milk.

The boy didn’t like the soy milk but loved everything else.

Me: How is it?
Him: Sooooooo good!
Her: Everything is delicious – you’re five-for-five, Lo!

Afterward, my mom came by to pick us up and bring us over to her place for dinner but that’s a story for tomorrow.

Me: Hi, mom! This is [The Firecracker].
Firecracker: Hi! Thank thanks for picking us up!
Mom: Of course, get in!

Location: earlier today, a schoolyard, introducing myself to a parent and asking them what they thought about a school I was thinking about for the kid
Mood: plants are trying to kill me and I don’t like it
Music: I know I always come and go but it’s out of my control (Spotify)
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A Story, on the West Side

Seeing the blue sky again

It’s been a super busy week with work and life.

This past weekend, the kid had his first “school party” without me.

Basically, the PTA threw a party where the parents dropped off their kids so the kids could spend three hours running around the school, playing games and dancing and such.

The kid was so thrilled, I was excited for him. But he’s growing up way too fast.

Him: You’ll really let me go?
Me: Of course.
Him: You’re the best dad, ever!
Me: You’re not wrong.

The Firecracker and I took the opportunity to grab a drink around the way at a local bar called Jake’s Dilemma.

Her: You got carded! The night’s already off to a good start. (later) Look at us, out at a bar without the kids.
Me: It definitely feels weird.

Because we were both actively dating when we met, she and I chat about dating in NYC in general and our recent history.

Me: …so, that was the end of that.
Her: Well, compared to my last date, you’re definitely an upgrade.
Me: (laughing) I would hope so.
Her: Oh yeah, it’s like moving up from a Pinto to a Ferrari.

If nuthin else, she’s good for my ego.

The next day, the kid went to a Holi festival at the Seaport and I grabbed him over at Lincoln Center before heading back downtown.

Me: See that brown building over there? This entire place used to be fulla buildings exactly like that. But you can actually see exactly what it used to look like before it became Lincoln Center.
Her: Where?
Me: The original West Side Story. It was shot when this was all residential walk-up housing. They literally bulldozed the entire neighborhood the day after shooting stopped.

The kid and I met up with the Firecracker and her kid to come with me to the Surgeon’s place for a little party after his Holi party.

Me: They live in a converted department store. The ceilings are like 15 feet tall.
Her: I can’t wait to see it!

She was impressed.

The surgeon made rum cocktails while I cooked up some Korean pork dishes that I got from H Mart near the gym.

Her kid was a huge hit with the Surgeon’s daughters. It was nice that everyone got along well.

His brother, Steel, had another engagement but everyone there was really cool. We met the most interesting fella who worked at Google…

His Wife: (proudly) He invented Chrome.
Me: Wait, for real?!
Him: (sheepishly) Yeah. I led the team that wrote Firefox and Google hired me to write Chrome for them.
Me: Oh man, I have so many questions. (later) BTW, lemme tell you about this hack that happened to me because of Chrome…

It was super late when we all left.

The next day, we all met up with the ABFF and her kids as well and everyone seemed to get along well there too.

Her: Shoot, I don’t have any alcohol.
Me: It’s like you don’t even know me.

I feel like my life’s been on hold for years now.

I either didn’t go out or went to things solo. It’s nice to have a companion that wants to do things with me.

You know, the scaffolding on my block came down and I can see the blue sky again.

The last time I saw the blue sky around my pad, Alison was still alive and we were waiting for the boy to come.

I’ve been in shadow ever since.

So, it’s nice to see the sun and sky again.

It’s been so long that I’d forgotten what it looked like.

Location: yesterday, looking at the sun from my son’s room
Mood: ruminating
Music: I can see the bright blue skies now (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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The night was young and we had umbrellas in our drinks

And foot-long spam hotdogs to boot

When the kid’s away for the week, I usually try and hit up the gym every day – sometimes even twice a day.

But, because I didn’t wanna rip open the cut above my eye, I couldn’t go to the gym for most of the time.

It was fine, though.

Was supposed to meet Bryson and The Frenchman for karaoke and drinks on Saturday – I’m not a karaoke person but I like going just to be social and be entertained.

But on Friday night, the Firecracker hit me up because she had a Ukranian friend from Austria in town and wanted to know if I wanted to meet them for drinks. That made hanging out on Saturday impossible.

Her: She’s heading back to Austria tomorrow morning so tonight’s the only night I can see her.
Me: OK, I’m down.
Her: We can meet at the Tiki Chick. They have $5 chicken sandwiches and is a rum bar.
Me: Sold!

Her friend was already at the bar when we arrived.

Because the Firecracker had been there so many times, the bartenders motioned to us when the corner seats were available – despite a huge line – so we took them.

Here’s the thing; I’m a sucker for a pina colada for a buncha reasons:

      • They almost always come with umbrellas.
      • They’re made with rum and coconuts.
      • They remind me of my dad.

Honestly, how can you go wrong?

Oh, lemme tell you – you can go wrong when they’re $12 at happy hour and you consume waaaaay too many of them.

Plus a mai tai, a hurricane, and a rum and diet coke (because I gotta watch my weight, right?). It’s amazing we I didn’t fall off the stool.

Noticed a pretty appropriate book, nestled among the tiki mugs – which also remind me of my dad.

It was cool. The night was young and we had umbrellas in our drinks.

Spoke to her friend for a bit.

Her: Sie sagt, du sprichst ein bisschen Deutsch.
Me: Nur ein bisschen. Leider habe ich zuviel vergessen.
Her: Ihre Aussprache ist sehr gut.
Me: Ack, quatch. Aber danke.

The three of us drank way, way, way too much.

Waaaaaaaay too much.

I also told the two of them that I wasn’t gonna eat anything because I was drinking so many calories…

…BUT I ended up not only getting a chix sandwich…

…BUT ALSO getting comped a foot-long hot dog…with SPAM, because of a mistake they made.

Him: Just take it, we’ll throw it out if you don’t eat it.
Me: Well, we can’t have that.

After alla that, I headed down to the restroom.

Even though I was two sheets to the wind, I did notice that there was a drink that someone left on the sink. While inside, a woman called in.

Her: (outside) Is there a drink in there?!
Me: Maybe!
Her: Don’t drink it!
Me: It’s America!

When I stepped out, I handed her the drink.

Her: Whoa, that’s a nasty cut you have there. (looking closely) Krazy glue?
Me: How’d you know?
Her: I’m a surgeon. (peering closely) You did a good job. That’ll heal nicely.
Me: Thanks doc. I promise I didn’t roofie your drink.

Made my way back up to the bar and the Firecracker and told her what happened, among other things.

Her: (afterward) You are a really solid dude.
Me: Yeah, I’m pretty fucking wonderful. (thinking) Man, I should NOT have had that hot dog.

Location: this morning, prepping for court and telling them that they’re not ready for what I can do
Mood: upset
Music: If I let you in, I won’t let you go (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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Chinese New Year with Annabel

My first friend

The boy and I high-tailed it to the East side for a Lunar New Year Party.

Do you remember when I told you about the lovely nurse Annabel that cooked for Alison and us every Wednesday when we were trying to save her?

She’s the one that invited me to her wedding, which I’m sure she regretted as I was a sobbing mess at the time.

Anywho, it appears that she never learned her lesson as – without fail – every year, she invites me to numerous events. She invited me to a Lunar New Year event that was that night.

My life’s been frozen for quite some time now, I think. But I decided I needed to go; the last time she saw the kid, he was 18 months or so.

Me: Hi there, stranger! Can I bring [the boy]?
Her: Yes absolutely! There will be other kids around his age, so should be fun.

So, we headed to Grand Central, near my office – but only after we stopped to watch some breakdancers – and soon found ourselves in a room packed to the gills with nice people, nonstop, fresh handmade dumplings, and the best smells you can imagine as a secretly fatty-fat-fat Chinese boy.

The boy was shy at first but then quickly made friends.

I was tickled when two mothers pulled me aside.

Her: I just want you to know, you have the nicest son! He introduced himself to every kid.
Me: Oh, that’s awesome! I’m legally required to keep him another 10 years or so, but that certainly helps.

Didn’t actually get to speak to Annabel’s fella much at the wedding, I did this night. Turns out that he’s a professor of tax law over at NYU Law.

Him: Do you still practice the law?
Me: I’m still on the masthead at my firm so, yes? But I have the luxury of only taking on things that interest me.

He was super interesting and a marathon runner. We both agreed that, had things been different, he and Alison would go running together and Annabel and I would stay behind and drink while waiting for them.

In any case, I’m great at parties because you can really just cut me loose and I’ll make friends.

Her: You’re funny, you should have a YouTube channel.
Me: Actually, I do…in a manner of speaking. Google “Scenic Fights.”
Her: (she does) Whoa! You have 6.9 million views on one of your videos.
Me: To be fair, I’m pretty sure my mom is 6.8 million of those views.

At the end of the night, a very pretty teenage blond girl sat next to the boy. He turned to her and looked at her admiringly.

I had mentioned to my brother the other day that my earliest memory was our pretty blond neighbor, Jennifer. So, he shot me the picture below.

I really do think so much of what shapes our lives are guided by little things from our childhood.

It might explain why I have a weakness for certain types of people.

Him: Did you see the older girl that sat next to me, papa?
Me: (smiling and nodding) I did.
Him: She was nice.
Me: She seemed it. (later) Did you have a good time today?
Him: Yes! We did so much!
Me: Yeah, we did. Who knows, maybe we’ll see some of these people again, someday.

Location: earlier tonight, picking up dog food on 79th Street in the rain while explaining who John Danaher is
Mood: soaked to the bone
Music: I know we’re moving fast, too good to let it pass (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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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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