Twice this weekend, I will travel to Dupont Circle.
Twice this weekend, I will meet women named Anna.
Twice this weekend, I will feel as if I am dreaming.
The first occassion was on Saturday morning. My friend Jane called me at 8:25 a.m I find myself with my head spinning, speaking in a croaky voice to Jane, who is bright and chirpy. I believe I am dreaming, because I have never spoken to Jane this early, and I have only spoken to Jane four times on the telephone. When I heard my phone ringing and saw Jane's number on the LCD, it didn't seem real. The sun was out, but my head was heavy and I felt last night's buzz still clawing at my back.
The second time I would feel as if I was dreaming was ACTUALLY a dream. At 2:45 a.m on Saturday morning, I'm walking from Wonderland back to the train. It has been a particularly productive night. A girl named Justine approaches me at the bar and makes a statement that a 5 foot tall, reasonably cute blonde girl would not say without alcohol in her system, or possibly the presence of a celebrity. "You're cute. We should exchange numbers." As buzzed as I was, I actually took this as an invitation to speak to her, but then she compeletly ignored me. When I called her the next day, someone named Erin answers the phone. When Justine does come on the line, she says "Oh! I'll call you back, I just got out of the shower." Silly as it may seem, some people think that people are completely idiots. Three hours later, I send her a text message saying:
You win. You hold the record for the longest post-shower drying period in history!
In the train station, I am spent. It has been a particularly long Friday, and I spend the night downing beers, talking with friends and women I've never seen. I'm walking with a controlled buzz, the kind I know will probably give me a headache the next day if I decide to go jogging, but also the kind that won't bother me in the least if I don't do any major physical excercise. I sit on a bench near three young women. They all glance in my direction as I sit down, semi-unaware of them. I am not thinking about women when I am on the bench. I'm calculating how many odd steps it will take to reach home after exiting the metro at almost 3 a.m. A friend of mine taps me on the shoulder in an attempt to scare me. If I was completely sober, I would have probably yelped like a piglet. The most I muster is a "huh? Oh, what's up man." He laughs and tells me that i'm drunk. I protest and begin speaking to the girls beside me about the night i've had, and how drunk people are the people who drink at home and don't call anyone. My friend hops on the train on the opposite platform, his massive silhouette dissappearing into the confines of a sleek metro train. The three women are all good friends. Two of them are Law students at George Washington, and one is visiting from California. I have some very interesting conversation between the 2 minutes it takes to get from Columbia Heights to Shaw Howard. In those two minutes, the girl from California guesses I'm from Jamaica. I find out the girls names are Heather, Katie and Leigh respectively, they also ask me about some candy corn i'm eating because they themselves bought some at the same CVS I went to earlier. I tell the ladies goodbye and hobble home. I mentioned to Katie that she should add me on facebook.
I have a dream that she does in fact add me on facebook, which is what led me to wonder if the call from Jane was real in the first place. On the train, when Leigh guessed I was from Jamaica, I winced. Earlier that night, I ran a test on a girl named Bridgete (yes, with one 't') who was into Celtic music. "If you guess where I'm from. " I say, "I will buy you a drink." She looks at me and says, "Jamaica!" with no reservations. I sigh and end up buying her a sprite. (Luckily for me she doesn't drink). She invites me to come and check out the celtic music on Thursday. It is somewhere near Chinatown, and i'm not sure if I'll go. Maybe when Enya comes to town.
I want to try and get a cute bartender's number, but I can't bother because I'm interested in sleeping more than anything. A few of my friends come and go, and I find myself floating around and talking to a girl from Georgetown named Ally who likes to dance with her arms around my neck. Her friend Anna (yes, another Anna) pulls her away when its time to leave. She looks on me longingly and gives me a wet kiss on the cheek. I smile and wave.
A young man in a brown sweater with diamonds on the chest constantly gives me high fives and fists for reasons I can't figure. He is wearing a Kangol hat and has the look of someone used to getting what he wants. Not in a Tony Soprano sort of way, but in the way that a guy who used to bully kids in school looks. He comments on my outfit briefly and I tell him about the time a bouncer almost molested me at a bar. This story is not true.
I meet the boss of a girl who works at Urban outfitters. Her boss is a dashing brunette with dark eyes and a breath heavy with a liquor I can't name. She approaches me, constantly saying: "Show me what the fuck you got?". We do a man-to-woman te ta te for a while. She dances seductively, but drunk women annoy me after a while... I'm not that type of guy. I feel like showing up at the Urban Outfitters where she works and shout out: "Show me what you fucking got!"
That would most certainly get me tossed into jail. As usual, I meet another girl visiting from outside of the good old Washington D.C, a southerner named Kelsie (or was it Katie? i forget.)
I make plans to head to Ibiza with a friend of mind. He says it is guaranteed that we will meet some chicks. I tell him its an "Asian Haven". His eyes don't really sparkle, because he's Korean.
Mine don't either. The last time I was at Ibiza I experienced the kind of culture shock I should experience in a foreign country, not D.C.
Ibiza was pretty cool though.
I flop into my bed and take a few deep breaths and find myself falling asleep. I toy with the idea of watching the latest episode of Heroes and decide against it. The world of dreams awaits me at 3:30 a.m and I have to wake up for an entire day of activity at 9. Its all good though. Good to be alive and well, function in a world of oddity and semi-disfunction /:.
Twice this weekend, I will meet women named Anna.
Twice this weekend, I will feel as if I am dreaming.
The first occassion was on Saturday morning. My friend Jane called me at 8:25 a.m I find myself with my head spinning, speaking in a croaky voice to Jane, who is bright and chirpy. I believe I am dreaming, because I have never spoken to Jane this early, and I have only spoken to Jane four times on the telephone. When I heard my phone ringing and saw Jane's number on the LCD, it didn't seem real. The sun was out, but my head was heavy and I felt last night's buzz still clawing at my back.
The second time I would feel as if I was dreaming was ACTUALLY a dream. At 2:45 a.m on Saturday morning, I'm walking from Wonderland back to the train. It has been a particularly productive night. A girl named Justine approaches me at the bar and makes a statement that a 5 foot tall, reasonably cute blonde girl would not say without alcohol in her system, or possibly the presence of a celebrity. "You're cute. We should exchange numbers." As buzzed as I was, I actually took this as an invitation to speak to her, but then she compeletly ignored me. When I called her the next day, someone named Erin answers the phone. When Justine does come on the line, she says "Oh! I'll call you back, I just got out of the shower." Silly as it may seem, some people think that people are completely idiots. Three hours later, I send her a text message saying:
You win. You hold the record for the longest post-shower drying period in history!
In the train station, I am spent. It has been a particularly long Friday, and I spend the night downing beers, talking with friends and women I've never seen. I'm walking with a controlled buzz, the kind I know will probably give me a headache the next day if I decide to go jogging, but also the kind that won't bother me in the least if I don't do any major physical excercise. I sit on a bench near three young women. They all glance in my direction as I sit down, semi-unaware of them. I am not thinking about women when I am on the bench. I'm calculating how many odd steps it will take to reach home after exiting the metro at almost 3 a.m. A friend of mine taps me on the shoulder in an attempt to scare me. If I was completely sober, I would have probably yelped like a piglet. The most I muster is a "huh? Oh, what's up man." He laughs and tells me that i'm drunk. I protest and begin speaking to the girls beside me about the night i've had, and how drunk people are the people who drink at home and don't call anyone. My friend hops on the train on the opposite platform, his massive silhouette dissappearing into the confines of a sleek metro train. The three women are all good friends. Two of them are Law students at George Washington, and one is visiting from California. I have some very interesting conversation between the 2 minutes it takes to get from Columbia Heights to Shaw Howard. In those two minutes, the girl from California guesses I'm from Jamaica. I find out the girls names are Heather, Katie and Leigh respectively, they also ask me about some candy corn i'm eating because they themselves bought some at the same CVS I went to earlier. I tell the ladies goodbye and hobble home. I mentioned to Katie that she should add me on facebook.
I have a dream that she does in fact add me on facebook, which is what led me to wonder if the call from Jane was real in the first place. On the train, when Leigh guessed I was from Jamaica, I winced. Earlier that night, I ran a test on a girl named Bridgete (yes, with one 't') who was into Celtic music. "If you guess where I'm from. " I say, "I will buy you a drink." She looks at me and says, "Jamaica!" with no reservations. I sigh and end up buying her a sprite. (Luckily for me she doesn't drink). She invites me to come and check out the celtic music on Thursday. It is somewhere near Chinatown, and i'm not sure if I'll go. Maybe when Enya comes to town.
I want to try and get a cute bartender's number, but I can't bother because I'm interested in sleeping more than anything. A few of my friends come and go, and I find myself floating around and talking to a girl from Georgetown named Ally who likes to dance with her arms around my neck. Her friend Anna (yes, another Anna) pulls her away when its time to leave. She looks on me longingly and gives me a wet kiss on the cheek. I smile and wave.
A young man in a brown sweater with diamonds on the chest constantly gives me high fives and fists for reasons I can't figure. He is wearing a Kangol hat and has the look of someone used to getting what he wants. Not in a Tony Soprano sort of way, but in the way that a guy who used to bully kids in school looks. He comments on my outfit briefly and I tell him about the time a bouncer almost molested me at a bar. This story is not true.
I meet the boss of a girl who works at Urban outfitters. Her boss is a dashing brunette with dark eyes and a breath heavy with a liquor I can't name. She approaches me, constantly saying: "Show me what the fuck you got?". We do a man-to-woman te ta te for a while. She dances seductively, but drunk women annoy me after a while... I'm not that type of guy. I feel like showing up at the Urban Outfitters where she works and shout out: "Show me what you fucking got!"
That would most certainly get me tossed into jail. As usual, I meet another girl visiting from outside of the good old Washington D.C, a southerner named Kelsie (or was it Katie? i forget.)
I make plans to head to Ibiza with a friend of mind. He says it is guaranteed that we will meet some chicks. I tell him its an "Asian Haven". His eyes don't really sparkle, because he's Korean.
Mine don't either. The last time I was at Ibiza I experienced the kind of culture shock I should experience in a foreign country, not D.C.
Ibiza was pretty cool though.
I flop into my bed and take a few deep breaths and find myself falling asleep. I toy with the idea of watching the latest episode of Heroes and decide against it. The world of dreams awaits me at 3:30 a.m and I have to wake up for an entire day of activity at 9. Its all good though. Good to be alive and well, function in a world of oddity and semi-disfunction /:.
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