"Watch your sperm," Sean says before he leaves this morning.
I can't believe they're putting Fat Tire in cans.
Jason brought up the Peace Corps e-mail and asked me what the time-frame was for such a departure, and I lied and said it wouldn't be for another year (albeit, this could be true, but I marked May as my earliest availability). The rest of the day, I kept expecting Tim to say something, but he didn't. I just hope either of Old Soul's owners have the time to write me a recommendation.
After Sean arrived around 6:00, we smoked a quick joint while walking to Spin Burger to meet Kirsten and Ruben for dinner before the Christmas Party. Comparatively dry night after the day's stormy downpour. We had a few moments to catch up and I told him about my exit interview with Sac Press--the "compliment sandwich" that Colleen served me. His parents' had been throwing a dinner for friends that Sean had no intention of attending. The lure of socializing and free beer won.
Hank was at the Party. Good ol' Hank, with a sharp haircut buzz and just four days left before leaving Old Soul to work for The Law. It's hugs only whenever I see the guy. This must be what it feels like when your older brother goes off to college.
For whatever reason, Sean had a banana, which he ate en route to Spin Burger--noting the erotic nature of eating a banana in public. Turns out, Ruben has a banana allergy, and couldn't even shake Sean's hand when they met each other across the table. We drank tall cans of two-dollar Pabst and dined on appetizers, drew on the wall with chalk, talked about owning a slow loris (see below) and I was happy to find out that the Raiders had won. Anyway, Ruben's a weird guy and Sean nicknamed him ChoMo, which is prison-slang for child molester, and I'm pretty sure the guy hates me because I'm sleeping with Kirsten and he's not.
Then Celena sends me a text that says she wants to hang out again soon. We make plans to meet after she gets off work this Wednesday. This is the girl with the boyfriend who did yoga on my bedroom floor and melted my heart when she translated Carla Bruni. Not sure what to expect this time. I just know I'm much less concerned with being a gentleman about this. If she puts her head on my shoulder again, I'm going to kiss her.
Really I'd be happy if we just got stoned and watched Inception.
During the party, Sean and I left with a few other Old Soul employees and friends to smoke on someone's balcony down the street from Weatherstone. This was a really nice moment. Christmas lights were tangled in a mirrored chandelier hung from the ceiling. Couches and beaten chairs. A table covered in trinkets and candles. Names I remember: Ryan, Huggy, Yuri... Jack and Meredith were there. Everyone joking about the heartfelt but undeniably cheesy speech that Tim and Jason gave moments earlier.
Kimberly brought me a Santa hat to wear to the Christmas Party. She's this lively older woman currently working on a memoir, a new face among the Old Soul morning customer crew.
Told Dapper Dan to keep me posted on any flights he'll be taking now that he's gotten his pilot's license. I made a show-you-the-world Aladdin reference to Kirsten about this.
Kirsten's in love with having sex with me, which is worrisome.
Both Shaun and I brought friends named Sean to the Party, which was awesomely confusing. At around 10pm, we ventured over to Crystal's going-away shindig and were just in time to see Favors play in the livingroom. Kirsten and Ruben met us there. Sean (my Sean) fell in love with Crystal when she was up there passionately playing the drums. Laura, lead-singer David's girl, pulled me up to dance with the small crowd a few times. A good quick taste of house-party nostalgia. I ate stale popcorn off the Christmas tree. It was good to see Chris outside of Old Soul and away from World of Warcraft, even if it did seem like he was on speed. Crystal leaves for Baltimore in the next week or so.
Ruben left and I realized that Kirsten had intentions to stay the night at my place. After the show was done and goodbyes were shared, the night moved me and Sean and Kirsten back to my house, where I rolled a joint before we ventured out again to the liquor store to buy a twelve-pack of canned Fat Tire. It's always exciting to smoke joints in public and I don't know what made me so bold last night, other than this day-long sensation of prideful invincibility, this feeling that nothing could go wrong. Kirsten unsuccessfully tried to convince me to go to the casino. I do my best to disappoint her.
Later, the three of us had a long conversation on the front porch about relationships and mistakes and marriage and babies. Then Kirsten passed out in my bed and Sean expressed concern that I was getting involved with a baby-crazy woman who will try to steal my sperm. High or not, I'm still rather aloof about the idea. I think it could work so long as there's communication between the parties involved regarding expectations. Yeah it would be nuts to have a child out in the world, especially one I'd have no intention of raising, but what's the harm? I'm probably being terribly naive about the whole thing.
I'm probably being terribly naive about a lot of things.
- Left to Fry
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