That Was the Week That Was
It's been a long week.
Todd got wind of what happened last Wednesday night and fired Tommy on Friday afternoon. I wasn't there yet when it happened, but I heard Tommy put up a big stink about how he'd been there much longer than Jocelyn, and the only reason Todd was siding with the girl with the big tits was because she brings in business. Vince has been helping Todd go through stacks of applications for new barbacks since Saturday, but it seems like everybody they call has found another job or disconnected their phone service. Todd has been helping out with barbacking duties himself, and Vince has done a good job of stepping up to fill the shifts.
In the meantime, Mario broke things off with Jocelyn. When she found him that night at his apartment, he wouldn't talk to her, and when she finally said she had to get back to work, he asked her not to come back. She still doesn't know why. We haven't seen or heard from Mario since. None of us can get him on the phone, and nobody whom we know to be his friend has been able to tell us anything. And Jocelyn is a wreck.
I haven't spoken to Dara in the three weeks since she was last at the Bar. I asked our friend Scott if he had spoken to her about it, and he said he didn't want to get in the middle of it. I don't want to be the first one to call, and I assume she feels the same way. And somehow three weeks have gone by, even though we've both had first dates to tell each other about, something that in the past we would never have let slide more than a couple of days.
It was just a stupid fight.
I've managed to get together with Warren only once since our first date nearly two weeks ago. He had his kids visiting this past weekend, and I don't think either of us was even thinking just yet about suggesting that I meet them. So I met him for lunch on Monday near his office, which was nice, but felt a little rushed and impersonal. I wonder sometimes what we think we're doing - I constantly feel like I want to jump him, but I don't know what we have in common.
Jessica e-mailed me a link to the bridesmaid dress I'm going to be wearing at her wedding. It's spectacular... click here and then click on the color block they call "petal" to see it. I think I'm very lucky - it's the kind of dress I could probably wear again to other elegant events, assuming I ever have other elegant events to attend. But Jessica and I still haven't talked in any meaningful way yet about what happened between us before she moved. Sooner rather than later, I have to figure out what it is I need to say to her, and say it.
My cousin Rebecca spent Tuesday night in the hospital. She's basically okay; she's just a pretty small person, which can make pregnancy complicated. But it was a little scary, and I'm worried about her now.
I'm tired, and I haven't wanted to write in days. I summarized because if I tried to write about the last eight days one at a time, I'll be writing about this week a week late, too, and I won't catch up. Somehow, I've got to get it through my head that I took this on for a reason, and I can't simply let it drop. Not because of reader "demand" - actually, in six days there's been barely a peep. No matter how much people enjoy what I write, there are no throngs anxiously awaiting my next sentence with bated breath. This is and always was, and has to be, for me.
Jessica, Dara, Mario - if you're reading this - I miss you.
Todd got wind of what happened last Wednesday night and fired Tommy on Friday afternoon. I wasn't there yet when it happened, but I heard Tommy put up a big stink about how he'd been there much longer than Jocelyn, and the only reason Todd was siding with the girl with the big tits was because she brings in business. Vince has been helping Todd go through stacks of applications for new barbacks since Saturday, but it seems like everybody they call has found another job or disconnected their phone service. Todd has been helping out with barbacking duties himself, and Vince has done a good job of stepping up to fill the shifts.
In the meantime, Mario broke things off with Jocelyn. When she found him that night at his apartment, he wouldn't talk to her, and when she finally said she had to get back to work, he asked her not to come back. She still doesn't know why. We haven't seen or heard from Mario since. None of us can get him on the phone, and nobody whom we know to be his friend has been able to tell us anything. And Jocelyn is a wreck.
I haven't spoken to Dara in the three weeks since she was last at the Bar. I asked our friend Scott if he had spoken to her about it, and he said he didn't want to get in the middle of it. I don't want to be the first one to call, and I assume she feels the same way. And somehow three weeks have gone by, even though we've both had first dates to tell each other about, something that in the past we would never have let slide more than a couple of days.
It was just a stupid fight.
I've managed to get together with Warren only once since our first date nearly two weeks ago. He had his kids visiting this past weekend, and I don't think either of us was even thinking just yet about suggesting that I meet them. So I met him for lunch on Monday near his office, which was nice, but felt a little rushed and impersonal. I wonder sometimes what we think we're doing - I constantly feel like I want to jump him, but I don't know what we have in common.
Jessica e-mailed me a link to the bridesmaid dress I'm going to be wearing at her wedding. It's spectacular... click here and then click on the color block they call "petal" to see it. I think I'm very lucky - it's the kind of dress I could probably wear again to other elegant events, assuming I ever have other elegant events to attend. But Jessica and I still haven't talked in any meaningful way yet about what happened between us before she moved. Sooner rather than later, I have to figure out what it is I need to say to her, and say it.
My cousin Rebecca spent Tuesday night in the hospital. She's basically okay; she's just a pretty small person, which can make pregnancy complicated. But it was a little scary, and I'm worried about her now.
I'm tired, and I haven't wanted to write in days. I summarized because if I tried to write about the last eight days one at a time, I'll be writing about this week a week late, too, and I won't catch up. Somehow, I've got to get it through my head that I took this on for a reason, and I can't simply let it drop. Not because of reader "demand" - actually, in six days there's been barely a peep. No matter how much people enjoy what I write, there are no throngs anxiously awaiting my next sentence with bated breath. This is and always was, and has to be, for me.
Jessica, Dara, Mario - if you're reading this - I miss you.