26 May 2005 [3:02am]
Playlist: Joy ElectricI apologize Emily for missing your birthday friday. But today. Don't dare tell me you didn't enjoy today (actually yesterday).
A chipotle virgin was diverginised joined by Nicole, surprise visitor Ella, and two boys meet at the metro station respectively called John and Mike.
Rewind to Tuesday, May 17th, Lords of Dogtown special screening in Georgetown. Since Bryan was unable to attend, he allowed me his tickets and in turn, I invited Emily. We trekked a good 20 or so blocks from the Farragut North station to the theater. It was a fairly intense and interesting base on true story movie. Anyways, this same night getting off (not that kind of getting off you sicko, jay kay) at the Shady Grove station, for some reason my eyes wander and find interest in some random guy with friend getting off a car or two behind the one we were on. At some point between getting out of that tunnel thing and walking to the car, the friend decideds to start talking to us, mostly Emily, and for the record they claim they "we're not perverts." That same night, the only information we gave them was the location of the town we reside and our ethnicity. Not a name, not where we go to school, or where we work, or anytype of information in how they may contact us were given.
This story further develops the next day. Wednesday is my supposed day off from the far from wonderful photo lab I work. However, on this particular day, I had to work since I a coworker insisted on not going to work on this day. The two individuals from the previous night must have decided that this particular night was a good night to buy a tv. I look up from cutting negatives and see two somewhat familiar face. I'm not sure if they realized it was me considering street lights aren't all that bright, but could be flattering. Finally, with my turn to be so bold and wanting to sleep at night since the thought of "Were they or were they not" would keep me up, (and not wanting to miss an oppertunity,) I speak up. "You're the guys from the metro last night, yeah?" And with that confirmed, I met Mike. And John.
Several days later, the Monday after the unfolding of these events, as I am diligently opening the disposable cameras, a cowork shouts out theres a customer for me. There are only two coustomers that specifically ask for me, so I'm thinking, "Please don't let it be the dog lady. She smells like dogs and she talks politics. I'm helpless and have no defense against her." I turn around, and no it wasn't the dog lady. It was John, even if they had said they were coming back someday to say "hello". I figured, they'll return when they've hit up everynumber in their blackbook to say "hello" and by then I'll be working at Borders and that was the last of Mike & John. Wrong. They came to get mine, or our number. Either way, I gave Emilys first thinking I can get away with just one contact number because I figured Mike sent John, and my confidence level when it comes to some kind of nonefriendship interaction with the male species really is near extinction.
But see, I like talking, and people, and talking to new people. So they are people who talk and are new. Sounds logical. But usually, what seems like good ideas at first don't always stay good. Unfortunaly, I don't have the psychic skills of premonition, so I take my risk. (I'm going to attempt to call this and give him two weeks before I dull the shit out of his life, that is if anything does happen.) I go ahead and give him my number as well since he did ask for mine. So I figured with our numbers exchanged, I'll go ahead and invite them to dinner for Emilys late belated birthday. So that is how they ended up there.
My favorite line of the night, "The stars look so beautiful tonight." Me and Nicole walking ahead of Mike & Emily look up. It was a cloudy night, so we laugh. Emily, softspoken and innocent is not an idiot and in her little girl squeaky voice burst out laughing. "There are no stars out!" she shreiks. Oh sigh. Classic move. Cute effort to woe.
Nicole and I looked so hard for the perfect balloon. In the process, we laughed so hard, we were nearly on the verge of death between the fruits and veggitable isle at Giant. Torn between a Spongebob and sick Patrick Starr get well balloon and a fathers day "Gee dad, You're swell" complete with other phrases little surrounding balloons such as "Way to go daddy-o" and "You're spiffy", we decided Spondgebob and sick Patrick Starr in his underwear and boner was well suited for Emily. Our reason: Emily is the boner that keeps me and Nicole sane. However, somehow, at Chipotle, the balloon managed to unravel from it's string, and flew to the ceiling. Way to not waste money. If I had known that was to happen, I would have just taken a picture and tied it to a string. Maybe next year.
ps. Bo Bice didn't win. And his real name isn't Micheal Vaughn. Tragic world in the tube.
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karenina || save scrotie � 2005