Friday, June 18, 2010

me and wilson

I like to talk. I'm definitely a talker. I had a guy think I was really conceited because I talked throughout our entire date, never once asking him about himself. At parties I always manage to corner some poor soul, talking their ear off while they look around in panic, hoping to catch someone's eyes to be saved. I'm quite certain, if I were to be stranded on a deserted island ala Tom Hanks in Castaway, I could entertain myself for months, maybe even years, by talking to a coconut or a volleyball that's laying around.



Ever since I moved to Astoria last September I've been on a (failing) mission to find some local friends to explore the neighborhood with. I've been trolling the bars, cornering unsuspecting patrons, and asking them if they'd like to be friends. It hasn't really worked out too well. Either they just think I'm super weird or at some point they end up hitting on me. Neither are desired outcomes. But a few days ago someone didn't think I was weird (well, only slightly) or hit on me and agreed to play in the park with me. I rode my bike to the park and we hung out in the sun and kicked the soccer ball around. Such a perfect summer afternoon. Of course I talked his head off until we got hungry and went to get a bite to eat (at a restaurant I had never been to) where there were 2 for 1 drinks. Hmm. The other thing about me, aside being a talker, is that I can never say no. Another round? OK! We had quite a few rounds until it was 1 AM and I was too drunk to ride my bike home. (Always a funny night when you're too drunk to ride a bicycle). I walked my bike all the way from Ditmars to 30th Ave, swerving from side to side. I made it to my apartment and through the double doors. I carried my bike up the stairs, never an easy task, especially while intoxicated. I struggled with the bike, it felt much heavier for some reason, and I fell backwards, down the stairs, with the bike falling on top of me. I was pinned under my bike, at the bottom of the stairs, without the energy to push it off of me. Just take a moment to picture this. I couldn't stop laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Twenty minutes later, I managed to climb two flights of stairs, without injury, and safely tucked myself into bed.

Perhaps a guy and a girl can meet and form a platonic friendship after all. Or maybe he thinks I'm a total lush and I'll be back to talking to coconuts.

1 comment:

carebears said...

You are ridiculous and I love you