Two Thursdays ago, on my day off, I went shopping with Ashley. I bought a dress I'll never wear, charms for a bracelet that are still sitting in the bag, and made friends with a manager (who ended up giving us a discount). After a mad rush to the liquor store before it closed, we skulked to OCAD to make ourselves presentable for the charity event we'd just decided on attending - me in my flipflops and day-shopping wear. We fixed our hair and got wasted.
On our way to the event, we ran into Mike, who happens to be homeless. He was sitting on the street, as is his habit, and I stopped to ask him what his story was.
He told me.
It was of the heart-wrenching, bad "shit-out-of-luck" variety. Mike seemed like a really cool guy, so Ashley and I stayed and chatted with him a few minutes more as he entertained us with jokes and anecdotes. Some of Ashley's friends randomly happened by, and as she went through the process of reuniting with them, I continued talking to Mike. Asking him about his plans, offering advice, joking.
When it was time to go, I gave Mike my number, to call me if he ever needed anything. We hadn't given him any money, and I told him I was sorry I didn't have any cash on me. He said, "Don't worry about it. I get all I need from the drop-in shelters. I eat three times a day, and I usually have a place to sleep. What I don't get nearly often enough is anyone talking to me. That's what I really need most of the time. Just someone to chat with."
We got to the club, listened to the band, hooted, hollered, and hit the ATM (followed by the bar) a few times. When Ashley decided that scene got old (I was too out of it to notice), we headed for Tonic. I'm pretty sure that was her idea.
Tonic was sausage-fest to the max. We climbed onto the stage, shopping bags and all, and danced the night away. When we decided it was time to go home, this guy that'd been dancing with Ashley broke off from the crowd and came with us.
Outside, at the hot-dog vendor, it was decided that said guy's cousin would accompany me home on the blue-night bus since Ashley was headed clear across the city in the opposite direction.
This all sounds super sketch because I'm leaving out a whole lot of details (and because it WAS super sketch). The good news is that I'm a really lucky girl, the boy turned out to be a perfect gentleman, and by the time he'd seen me (almost) all the way home, I'd learned, along with some other stuff, that the reason he looked so familiar was because we'd been in the seventh grade together, and that I wouldn't mind seeing him again.
I grabbed HIS number, because that's the way I'm doing things now, and promised I'd call.
Friday, I saw CGE at work. I don't remember what I did the rest of that weekend, but I'm sure it was fabulous.
Monday, Talladega nights. Tuesday, hung out with Nelly at her house. Wednesday, I can't remember. Thursday, Irena's party. Friday, CGE, Ramiro's show, and Rosey's party (A BLAST! WAAAAIT!), Saturday, FINALLY hung out with Thursday Night boy (hereafter referred to as "TN"), CGE called while on date with TN, to tell me he'd just been reminded of me and missed me (aw!) - but I didn't learn that until after the TN date, because the chemistry with TN is amazing and couldn't be interrupted for a phone call.
I also learned why people sometimes take a super-long time getting around to calling someone: They've genuinely got more important things to do. He remarked he was begining to think I wouldn't call, ever, but that he was glad I did, and I think I like that.
My number shall never leave my lips again.
Saturday night turned out to be doubly shit because we couldn't get into the party we were supposed to get into AND because I knew I could've spent it with TN, buuuuut, sometimes in life, shit happens.
Today, I hung out with Marc, from THAT 80'S PARTY, and it was a little surreal because I don't really remember talking to him at the party. We got ice cream, and I think I'm in love with the Demetre's waiter, who made a little white flag out of a napkin and spoon as a gesture of surrender to the dessert I couldn't finish.
The salsa lesson today reminded me that I, like life, can be funny sometimes.
And tasting the Danforth with Rosey tonight was the best decision I've ever made.
And remember how I said I was in love with the waiter at Demetre's?
Well, even more so, today, I remembered I was in love with Spaz, as I shall hereafter refer to the friend I'm in love with, because that's exactly what he makes me do.
I couldn't shut up about him to Rosey.
He takes the cake.
I probably won't do anything about it.
P.S. The SeaDoo guy called too. While I was on my date with TN. I swear, they can smell it. Anyway, I was rude and told him I'd call him back, but didn't. I'll rectify that eventually. Maybe.
P.P.S. Mike called too. I was on my way to work, and so couldn't really meet up with him, but I told him to give me a call again sometime. I don't know why.
