I Tell You Something, I Know What You're Thinking

Here is a picture I took of a guy walking his bike across the street in Chinatown in San Francisco. As usual, it has nothing to do with my post. I just like the photo.

As far as I know, I don't have anything going on this weekend, so I think the easiest thing to do tonight, is to just talk about a boy.

The last time I talked to him, he said he had been playing the American Idol video game with his son and his brother's family. He had a bit to drink, but nothing too bad. He said the first song he sang was Billy Joel's "Still Rock and Roll to Me" and he had rocked it. He was facetiously beating himself up for getting cocky and thinking he could sing Earth, Wind and Fire's "September". He loved that song, he had said, but he ruined it because he couldn't hit the high notes. I told him he should have had someone punch him the balls. He said he wished he had thought of that.

He talked and talked and talked and said all those things he had been saying for too long, but never acting on. I asked him what he wanted from me, really. He said he wanted everything. He wanted a relationship. I wasn't buying it, because I had heard it all before. I might have been born at night, but not last night. I told him that it had almost been a year. It was ridiculous to try and have a relationship with someone if you only saw them once a month, once a year wasn't even a friendship. He said to give him three weeks. He said by then things would calm down. He'd be done with his probation at his new job, get a raise and finally be able to quit his second job. In three weeks, everything would be better.

I wasn't stupid. I didn't count on it. I even vowed not to contact him, if he didn't contact me. And he didn't contact me that whole three weeks. On the weekend where everything was supposed to work out, I didn't hear from him. My friend K. did though. He called her and left her a voice mail message of him singing "Rio" by Duran Duran. K. said she thought he was really singing it to me but he was too scared to call me. I said, whatever.

After six weeks, he still hadn't contacted me, and I was pretty much over it. After two months, I didn't really think about him that much anymore.

Then this Sunday, K. told me he texted her to say he'd be here for the Wanksgiving show at the Picador, the Saturday after Thanksgiving (exactly a year since the first and only time I ever saw him). She texted him right back to ask him if he let me know that. He said he didn't think I'd care. I told K. I'd text him to find out what the hell was going on.

I sent him a text that said, "So, were you just going to be a punk ass bitch and not tell me u might come 4 Wanksgiving?"

Him: We haven't talked in a while n I haven't been reliable in the past so I figured you wouldn't give a shit.

Me: I'll always give a shit. I just know better than 2 expect 2 much.

Then he didn't text me back. I waited a couple of hours and still no response. I needed to know what he was expecting when he came to visit. I texted him again. I told him I hoped we could still be friends and that I hoped he wouldn't be weird to me, because I wasn't going to be weird to him.

He texted back and said: No weirdness. Everthing's cool.

Me: Good. If u actually show, Itll b great 2 c u.

Him: Smart ass. I deserved that.

Then we texted back and forth some more until I told him I had to go. I think I will be okay just being friends with him. It could be really good to see him one last time, a year after we met, to close the other bullshit up and start being just friends.

My friend K. said if she were me, she'd dress to kill and bring a date, preferably the 28 year old guy who's had a crush on me for six months'ish. I told her, that while I'm not above making a guy eat his heart out, I don't like to play games with people's feelings. So, I'm thinking I'd dress to kill and not bring a date.