(no subject)
I went out at night for the first time by myself. I was scared shit-less because several people have told me not to walk anywhere alone at night. Downtown is a short walk but the only way to get there is through a labyrinth of dark alleys. So I was sitting in my room clutching my purse and my umbrella thinking should I go? should I go? and figured either get the balls to take a walk or you're doing nothing tonight so sit the fuck down. Out the door.
Down the stairs, unlocking the first gate. Avoiding puddles. Clutching my mace, grinding my teeth.
I feel my face heat up passing a group of men outside of a bar. A few stare. One whistles. Through the tunnel.
I don't know where I'm going. I know the general area on a map, but I'm walking down a street I've never been on hoping for a sign. And it seems like a crazy chance when I see a cafe with the name I'm looking for. I walk in and see the person I'm meeting. I walk up to her table, but she doesn't see me. I forgot her name. I walk past the table and look left and right as if I'm looking for someone. I walk back to her table and stand awkwardly in front of it for a few seconds. She's deep in conversation with someone and neither notices me. I leave. What am I doing? Down the street. This is a good thing. I'm learning the layout of the city. I walk in a circle around the block. Twice. I go back to the bar, walk inside, make sure to make eye contact before I get to the table. "Hi! How are you?" Eye contact with the friend. It will never stop catching me off guard when a boy greets me with a kiss on the cheek. Nice to meet you.
They're talking about movies. So many things that have been happening make me feel like I'm in a barely tolerable indie movie. I'm in a jazz café with a menu of coffees, teas, beers, and wines. I look at the table in front of us and see three women drinking brown bottled beer. I look at the two at my table drinking tea and eating cantaloupe. Quaint. I feel like I'm at a silly hats only party that I didn't get the memo for, only they're not being ironic. The boy's wearing a red and gray striped sweater, a scarf, and his little cap. The girl's wearing...a lot of shit to be honest and one of those beanies with the long ear pieces.
I have to admit I'm inspired by the way they interact. Their speech goes far beyond the words they use. They speak an excited blend of Spanish and English, drawing each other pictures, using sound effects, wild hand motions, sitting, standing, lurching forward across the table. Their fluidity makes me aware of how tense and tired I am. I smile and try to jump in a few times and then resign. I can feel that she doesn't know what to do with me and isn't interested in filling me in.
I realize this is my first time listening to live jazz music. The whole damn thing! Tuba, trumpet, sax, drums. Fuck these tea drinking hippies. Closed eyes.
I can't wait to go back for the music when I don't have to endure conversation.
Down the stairs, unlocking the first gate. Avoiding puddles. Clutching my mace, grinding my teeth.
I feel my face heat up passing a group of men outside of a bar. A few stare. One whistles. Through the tunnel.
I don't know where I'm going. I know the general area on a map, but I'm walking down a street I've never been on hoping for a sign. And it seems like a crazy chance when I see a cafe with the name I'm looking for. I walk in and see the person I'm meeting. I walk up to her table, but she doesn't see me. I forgot her name. I walk past the table and look left and right as if I'm looking for someone. I walk back to her table and stand awkwardly in front of it for a few seconds. She's deep in conversation with someone and neither notices me. I leave. What am I doing? Down the street. This is a good thing. I'm learning the layout of the city. I walk in a circle around the block. Twice. I go back to the bar, walk inside, make sure to make eye contact before I get to the table. "Hi! How are you?" Eye contact with the friend. It will never stop catching me off guard when a boy greets me with a kiss on the cheek. Nice to meet you.
They're talking about movies. So many things that have been happening make me feel like I'm in a barely tolerable indie movie. I'm in a jazz café with a menu of coffees, teas, beers, and wines. I look at the table in front of us and see three women drinking brown bottled beer. I look at the two at my table drinking tea and eating cantaloupe. Quaint. I feel like I'm at a silly hats only party that I didn't get the memo for, only they're not being ironic. The boy's wearing a red and gray striped sweater, a scarf, and his little cap. The girl's wearing...a lot of shit to be honest and one of those beanies with the long ear pieces.
I have to admit I'm inspired by the way they interact. Their speech goes far beyond the words they use. They speak an excited blend of Spanish and English, drawing each other pictures, using sound effects, wild hand motions, sitting, standing, lurching forward across the table. Their fluidity makes me aware of how tense and tired I am. I smile and try to jump in a few times and then resign. I can feel that she doesn't know what to do with me and isn't interested in filling me in.
I realize this is my first time listening to live jazz music. The whole damn thing! Tuba, trumpet, sax, drums. Fuck these tea drinking hippies. Closed eyes.
I can't wait to go back for the music when I don't have to endure conversation.