"I disappoint myself..."
I hummed as I fumbled for my EZ Pass, passing into the Holland Tunnel last night. Alina at my side, my McDonald's breakdown secret was safe with her, I was certain. Besides, she had eaten some of my french fries, so there was really nothing she could say to my demise.
She didn't recognize me when I first pulled up along side her Ford Contour Limited Edition in the good ol' JC. She looked me straight in the eye and then looked away, later admitting her thoughts as "who is this random Asian chick staring at me?!"
I'm really not Asian, although some people might disagree.
My job becomes easier and easier each day, and its ease was made evident last night when I dropped Andrea Forrester off at her reception, "Oh, you don't need to come in at all. Have fun tonight, whatever you do!"
She had no idea, but her release on my services made it possible for me to meet up with Alina last night, and with the Spies, and with Jonathan Gottlieb, and with Lauren and Colleen (of Lauren and Colleen fame), and with Paul the bartender, who recognized me from his tenure at Luna Lounge... it was a relatively good evening. I didn't expect to bump into so many people.
I only drank one Amstel Light. It was only partially satiating.
I found a parking spot less than a block away from Pianos. That was entirely satiating.
I expected the energy of the city to feel good, but it wasn't the energy of the city that felt good, it was the awkwardness of not having a drink for the first five minutes of being there, it was the loud ringing in my ears, it was the screaming at the top of my lungs in the ear of the person next to me in order to make small talk, it was the "what was that?" that you had to ask at least four times before you ever heard what the person said (the fourth one nearly always being yelled just as a song ends and the room falls silent).
Nodding my head rhythmically, pretending to be completely into the music when in fact I was really just studying the people around me, wondering how it is that so many people can look exactly alike. These things all felt good.
Paul the bartender asked me if I had changed my hair since the last time he saw me. I thought it was just a line, but admitted to him that it was true. He reached forward and fingered my new-ish bangs... I nearly felt a space violation coming on, but was too distracted by the fact that he recognized me at all to let it bother me.
Alina and I snuck out early and cruised home listening to Bowie. For the first time ever, the iPod worked in the city.
It was strange to arrive home after a show and still have time to sit around, play the piano, harass one of the four dogs that now inhabits my home, read, or even engage in a wickedly long game of competitive speed scrabble...
My job gets easier and easier.
And my moment of zen?
I roll the window down and then begin to breathe in the darkest country road and the strong scent of evergreen, from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.
Then looking upwards, I strain my eyes and try to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites, from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.
"Do they collide?" I ask, and you smile.
With my feet on the dash, the world doesn't matter.
When you feel embarrassed then i'll be your pride.
When you need directions then i'll be the guide, for all time.
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Release date: By 26 September, 1995