|
sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
|
You Must Remember This
A Kiss Is Just A Kiss I don't know, after dinner tonight, whatever attracted me to Dave. I had a dream about eating a salad made with sashimi and vegetables. I had to have sashimi, toro sashimi, as bloody as possible, and rather than go to my new favorite place, I went up to see Dave. The place is new, has a very sophisticated decor, but the staff makes the place seem like a diner. They're loud and obnoxious and it's not very comfortable and I spent way too much money on the sushi equivalent of slung hash. And Dave? Was trying his damnest to show off, though for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. I asked him for news of Fu and to tell me the latest about himself, and that led to some peripheral Fu information and a lot of stories about Dave's recent drinking bouts and his visits to tit bars and some women that he was interested in but who ended up pairing off with a 24-year-old friend of his. He actually used the words "cock block" when describing the incident, and I thought, you're thirty-three years old so why are you talking and acting like a lousy kid? Mentally, I compared him to the recent Matthew, who, at 30, is more mature in his demeanor and whose interests and abilities express time spent at intelligent pursuits. I ended up leaving when Dave went out back for a smoke, and I don't intend on going back. For that kind of money, I can have a decent sushi dinner in a place where I don't have to listen to juvenile descriptions of failed sexual conquests. But there was the dream, and it played out this way: I sat down and ordered toro sashimi, and Dave served it to me, and it was fine, but it wasn't the dream sashimi. I said, "Dave, make me something else." We went around about what else. I nixed the things containing fried shrimp and anything with mayo in it, so he offered to make me something else. That something else turned out to be a sashimi salad. It was the dream salad, but it wasn't the dream salad. In the dream, there were crunchy chunks of red peppers and huge pieces of the bloodiest toro sashimi I've ever eaten. And in the dream that is my waking life, there was sake and (I think) hamachi on greens with a sesame dressing. It made me think about how the whole Dave incident had played out the same way: My thinking he was one kind of person, the kind of person I'd want to know, and the reality of finding out that he was a very different kind of person, a disappointing other. A person with a short list, as Sophistica would say, of things that, if acquired, would make him happy. A Sigh Is Just A Sigh I had just been to the herbal store to load up on flower remedies. I normally carry Bach's Rescue Remedy with me when I ride to combat the sometimes overwhelming nervousness that comes with firing up Frida. The Demon Who Always Does The Right Thing had mentioned a few other remedies to me and I wanted to try them out. When I walked in, I ran straight into a friend of The Demon's named Drew. And Drew? Struck me as drop-dead gorgeous. Drew, I met a while ago, and he was fine, but I hadn't looked at him and thought, my god, I could drown in those eyes. He has the most incredible blue eyes--and an incredibly beautiful girlfriend now. (He hadn't met her when I first met him.) We talked about The Demon, about our bikes (he just bought a big 800cc touring BMW), about riding. (Turns out that Hottie Jason was also his MSF instructor, and when he told me this, I got this Homer Simpson-like bit of drool in the corner of my mouth and was, like, Mmmmm, Hottie Jason.) Anyway, I bought my remedies, and came home, dropped them off, and went out to meet Max for coffee. It was on the way home that I almost dropped Frida. The Fundamental Things Apply I almost dropped Frida today. I was cruising along, going about 45 mph as I approached an intersection. I let my mind wander for a moment, and found myself looking at a yellow light that was coming up too quick. I hit the brakes and they locked, sending me into a skid. The steering instantly felt mushy, and then time slowed down the way it does when you're heading for an accident. I had time to think, you're going to skid into the intersection and lay down this bike. I let go of the front brake and increased pressure on the rear brake, and the bike slid to a stop just at the end of the pedestrian marking before the intersection proper. My adrenaline readings were off the scale, but I straightened up the bike and sat through the light, thinking, you're fine so calm down. I think I scared the hell out of myself and about five or six of the drivers who witnessed my almost skidding into oncoming traffic, who were probably looking at me and thinking, that guy's going to kill himself on that thing. Damn teenaged boys on their crotch rockets. As Time Goes By I went to the video store for a hottie rental video store clerk viewing after dinner. It was the least I could do to reward myself for the several impossible things I did today. I rented Lost Horizon and a Bette Davis flick, the name of which escapes me at the moment. Hotties I and II were there, so it was a double feature. They still love me. And I still love them. And now it's time for my warm 'jammies, a movie, and bed. Goodnight, Demons. Sleep Tight.
More lies:
|
|||||