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coyotegothHad an evening last night that was far more fun that it had any right to be, involving a chap we'll call Dave, a girl who knows who she is, and a certain East Village bar. I'd agreed to meet Dave after work for a beer at the Grassroots; we fell to discussing the space program, as we so often do, and this, of course, meant that we had to drink more. Although Dave is fairly knowledgeable about the subject, having worked at space.com, he's noticeably lacking in experience in other areas. However, he covers for this with a pose of being the Knowledgeable Cynic- which can be grimly amusing, or irritating, or simply horrifying, depending largely on your mood going in- much like, say, a piano player who opts for a loooooong Bon Jovi medley... but I digress.
We'd finally covered the space topic enough for one night; I felt vaguely like going for a walk; Dave felt tagging along, and did so. We headed east... and wound up outside a bar I'd been meaning to check out for a while. Impetuously, I did so, forgetting for the moment that I had a Dave in tow. Upon entering, I immediately spotted Girl, who I'm quite fond of; we hugged, said our hellos... and then I remembered. Dave. Before I could come up with a suitable variant on needing to rush home with grandma's heart/lung medication, we were sitting, and Dave was off to the races, merrily regaling us with his theories on - oh, Gods- adult film making. (Full disclosure: I once AD'd an adult film shoot up in Mamaroneck; I've known a few people in the field; although hardly knowledgeable, I do know a hawk from a handsaw on the subject.) Dave, obviously, knew nothing; equally obviously, this wasn't going to stop him. (I kept wondering what would've happened had someone else I know been there; the phrase "small, diced bloody cubes" kept coming to mind.) By the time he left, I was quite ready to start gnawing at the inside of my wrist, in search of an artery, but Girl assured me that it was all right, and that the whole spectacle had been amusing, in much the same way as, say, hearing Sebastian Cabot cover "It Ain't Me, Babe". From this, we may deduce three things:
1) Girl is one of the Good People, as though this weren't perfectly apparent already.
2) All right, it is the space program... but I really do need higher quality control standards in certain areas of my life.
3) Although it never seems like it at any given moment, I really have had some fascinating experiences in my life, for a hayseed from the North Country.
...and so much for that. In other news, I spotted Sam Delany at Port Authority the other moment, while waiting for my Buddhist friend who needs a clearer understanding of bus schedules; no idea what I would've said to him, but I was distracted by someone who would NOT get out of my face while trying to sell me batteries, so the subject never came up.
We'd finally covered the space topic enough for one night; I felt vaguely like going for a walk; Dave felt tagging along, and did so. We headed east... and wound up outside a bar I'd been meaning to check out for a while. Impetuously, I did so, forgetting for the moment that I had a Dave in tow. Upon entering, I immediately spotted Girl, who I'm quite fond of; we hugged, said our hellos... and then I remembered. Dave. Before I could come up with a suitable variant on needing to rush home with grandma's heart/lung medication, we were sitting, and Dave was off to the races, merrily regaling us with his theories on - oh, Gods- adult film making. (Full disclosure: I once AD'd an adult film shoot up in Mamaroneck; I've known a few people in the field; although hardly knowledgeable, I do know a hawk from a handsaw on the subject.) Dave, obviously, knew nothing; equally obviously, this wasn't going to stop him. (I kept wondering what would've happened had someone else I know been there; the phrase "small, diced bloody cubes" kept coming to mind.) By the time he left, I was quite ready to start gnawing at the inside of my wrist, in search of an artery, but Girl assured me that it was all right, and that the whole spectacle had been amusing, in much the same way as, say, hearing Sebastian Cabot cover "It Ain't Me, Babe". From this, we may deduce three things:
1) Girl is one of the Good People, as though this weren't perfectly apparent already.
2) All right, it is the space program... but I really do need higher quality control standards in certain areas of my life.
3) Although it never seems like it at any given moment, I really have had some fascinating experiences in my life, for a hayseed from the North Country.
...and so much for that. In other news, I spotted Sam Delany at Port Authority the other moment, while waiting for my Buddhist friend who needs a clearer understanding of bus schedules; no idea what I would've said to him, but I was distracted by someone who would NOT get out of my face while trying to sell me batteries, so the subject never came up.
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no subject
Date: 2002-10-19 06:17 pm (UTC)...and NO, I was NOT the set fluffer ;)
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Date: 2002-10-19 04:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-10-19 06:20 pm (UTC)*beep*
*getting sick of that yet?* ;)
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Date: 2002-10-19 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2002-10-19 06:19 pm (UTC)