And Nicole…

When Nicole came in, I was sitting off in my corner, writing, and doing pretty well. She was walking into a volatile situation and she had no idea. Things were starting to get ugly. Buddy of Chris was beginning to cheese the other patrons. He was hitting on the girls instead of pimping for Chris. He was out of control.

When she saw me, she was really happy to see me there. Happier than I am used to contending with. She waved across the room and said, “You’re back! Or, you’re still here!” She not only remembered my horrible beard, she remembered me. She remembered my story. Accelerated regularization at its best. And man, oh, man, she was looking good. She’s going to read this, and that means I probably can’t go back to The Cannery without freaking her out. Strike that. I’m already freaking her out, that’s why I can’t go back. ‘Cause here’s the thing. She’s really something. I actually entertained the idea of asking her to come to Vegas with me, before I overheard that she had a boyfriend of some years.

I don’t think I would have had the guts to ask her along anyway. The prospect of rejection is far less frightening than the possibility of her saying yes. What the hell would I do then? And just because she has a gift for making all her patrons feel special doesn’t mean that I actually am special. I saw it work. Whoever she talked to was the most important person in the world. Yeah, I know all that. In my head I know that, anyway.

So I sit here, late at night, writing about it and that’s all it’s going to be. Why? Well, let’s be realistic. I’m just passing through. Beautiful women who repaint their own cars aren’t looking for drifters. Of course, I could be wrong. I’d love to be wrong. But I’m right. (Still, Nicole, if I’m wrong, let me know.) But I’m right.

For those of you worried about Chris, he gave his number to one of the girls at the bar. Now I have to sleep. Adult Swim has given way to Tom and Jerry. Tom is drunk off his ass. Good kitty!

6 thoughts on “And Nicole…

  1. So you’ve really opened up and written very personally about the angst of relationships. Whaddya tryin’ to do? Be a writer or something?

  2. I think you should start a new poll

    on how you should chase this Nicole

    we’ll say, “start the hunt!”

    or, “give up and punt”

    come on man! give us control

  3. A write would not inflict the brain-slap of listing funny things a guy said in a bad and suddenly veering into the deep end.

    Awesome limerick, by the way. I composed a poll, but the question, which started, “Given that Nicole already has a perfectly good boyfriend and Jerry is just some guy passing through town…” and on it went. Pollhost thought that was a little much. I’ll test the limits of the system, and this I vow right now, my friends: I will follow the advice of my beloved readers.

    God help me.

  4. Um, as in, with friends like these, who needs deities?

    If you’ve never read the Iliad, you should do so, preferably before seeing the movie “Troy.” One of the most frustrating aspects of the story, to those of us who grew up with a modern western tradition, is how much the gods interfere. One character will be going along just fine, got things under control, everything’s great — and then some deity will step in and mess averything up.

  5. Or maybe Pat had too much hubris on our last sailing trip, so Poseidon gave him a slap on the wrist that broke it?

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