I saw you with the ticket stub on your hand.

Saturday night my two buddies came to work to have a couple drinks while I finished up. I had been drinking half my shift so I was in the mood to go out and rage. My one friend had an extra Hold Steady ticket at Williamsburg Music Hall but I decided to go to my old roommate's birthday party a couple of blocks from my apartment. She is in the whole bike scene in Brooklyn so every bike messenger dude seemed to be there. She was already bombed by the time I got there and while trying to sit down and talk to her for a second she fell off her bar stool almost taking me with her. I saw the biker version of Elvis Costello and immediately swooned. Somehow we ended up together and we romped around Brooklyn. I guess being wasted I thought Union Pool would be the perfect choice for a, "good hang" but it was over crowded and too much.

I then decided in my drunk mind I NEEDED TO GO DANCING and the perfect choice seemed to be Sugarland - the gay bar in Williamsburg. We waited in line - biker Elvis Costello and I to get in and when the lesbian at the door demanded $5. Now I don't pay door covers and I thought I was being really crafty when I told biker Elvis to, "follow my lead," and I booked it past her and into the club only to be escorted out by the bouncer. Elvis just stood outside confused while all this happened. We ended up going back to my place and fooled around...no we didn't sleep together because the poor chap couldn't get it up but maybe that's a good thing.

Sunday we had coffee at the park by the water and exchanged numbers. I'm so bad with this single shit of who is supposed to text who first. We sent a couple of texts Sunday - me thanking him for coffee, him thanking me for putting up with his drunk ass but I haven't heard anything. I tried chatting with him on facebook but he never responded. I am trying not to wrap my head around it too much. Do I text him? Do I wait for him to text me? FUCK...when did things get so complicated?

I thought this time I'd keep all of my promises. I thought you were the girl I always dreamed about.

After work I went to meet friends at a dive bar by NYU with $3 tap beers. As the first one there I sat at the bar and pulled out my book. Four loud undergraduate students were going on and on about Indonesia. I don't know how these four losers became friends...oh, yeah I do. They are all losers that found each other and found out that they like Indonesia. They probably all went for a couple of weeks and now they think they are experts on the subject. Did I mention they were all crackers? All I could hear is, "Well in Indonesia all they care is about what kind of religion you are and in Indonesia, everyone asks if you are married...." I almost wanted to take the muddle the bartender was using and stick it in both my ears to blow out my ear drums so I would never have to listen to the word "Indonesia" come out of some snot nosed just turned 21 kid with a small dick.

Instead I decided to put on my iPod (yes I was the bitch listening to the iPod in the bar) and wait. I immediately got hammered after three drinks and by that time my friends were also two drinks deep. We went to another bar where I started to panic and get even more hammered and dropped an "I got to go home vibe." I found a cab, called my 20 year old lover I met out west (we met each other while I was on vacation there last month). He told me he was with his metal band and that he would call me later. It's official, I've been stalking him ever since I've gotten back to NYC with calling him everyday and sending him photos. For every 6 texts and 5 phone calls I get he calls me once. It's like a math equation.

Tonight I am writing his number down on a piece of paper, sticking it in my Bukowski 'Post Office' book and erasing it from my phone. So when I got home I called my best friend Shane who now lives in the south and told him how depressed and broke I was and how I wanted him to come up here and hold me. He told me that I should watch some Red Tube and relax.

While on the phone I put on some Red Tube girl on girl action (which never appealed to me before), got off the phone with Shane, and did my business which miraculously made things better...maybe not so much of a miracle.

I watched The Office and once again wondered what kind of porn Jim watches in real life, made some raviolis, and passed out on my couch.