Going for a Walk

A year ago, Sunday would have meant watching TV or catching up on work.

I hate the outdoors. I don’t like hiking, biking, or riding on whatever you call those pretentious three-wheel sit-down chopper-bicycles that you see tree-huggers on sailing down San Vicente. But I am such a changed man these days that yesterday I went for a walk.

First, I stopped at Coffee Bean and got a coffee. I hate all the losers sitting on their laptops but I like coffee so it’s a trade-off. The guy at the counter is paid to make small talk, so it doesn’t count that we discussed (for about thirty seconds) how glad we are that the fucking L.A. Marathon is over. Those people make our lives a living hell with all the road closures.

Next I was heading east on San Vicente and stopped at that frame shop. There’s never anyone in there and I always wonder how they pay the rent in such a pricey location. I learned the owner is from Iran. But he said he was “Persian.” I asked him why people from Iran always say “Persian” when there’s no “Persia” anymore. Apparently, Persia was the western name for Iran. It’s a lot more complicated than that, but that’s basically the gist of it.

I had lunch at Barny’s Burgers where there is this cute waitress that I always talk to. She’s told me her name a bunch of times, but I have a mental block and can never remember. But I did remember that she’s from San Francisco and we talked about that. She misses the vibe SF has. She says L.A. is too self-absorbed. I said, “Sorry, what did you say? I was reading a text under the table.”

I headed back to Barrington and stopped at Whole Foods. Saw that nose ring girl and said hi. I think she remembers me. Whole Foods is easy to talk to people in because there’s a lot of stuff that’s confusing, especially in the cheese shop. Asking questions is always a good way in.

Walked home with some groceries. Half-way there I wished I had taken my car, but still…

Rocker Grrrl

Jennifer and I did it last night and she was amazing.

I’ll be honest. In my limited experience, women are all about the same in bed. That is to say, the standard deviation between awesome in bed and sucky in bed is very small for me. Now of course my sample size is far too limited to be accurate; hence the incredible deviation last night. Jennifer is just wild and fun and sexy and I don’t know what to say, she was just really good at it.

Ah, but here’s the problem. Cut to three hours earlier. I finally got to see Jennifer’s band perform at a club. And guess what? She is awful. The band blows, the songs suck, and Jennifer can’t sing for shit.

First of all, the “club” was little more than some loser’s rec room. I was expecting the Sunset Strip. Instead, we all crammed into a tiny little basement in some douche’s house in Hollywood. But regardless of the venue, the real problem is that Jennifer has absolutely no talent. I mean, at singing. I’ve already established that she has talent elsewhere.

I guess I just had this fantasy that I was dating Courtney Love or something (a cute version). I built it up in my head that she would be a kick-ass rocker chick and that it would be cool hanging out with her and the band.

But it wasn’t cool. It was really, really embarrassing. So I lied. And I was rewarded with the best sex of my life.

So great. Now what do I do? Keep telling her she’s great and sit through countless more high school talent show reject shows, or tell her the truth and lose her great sex stuff forever? I am so pissed. Why couldn’t she have just been good? Is that too much to ask for? Like at least American Idol Hollywood Week good. Not “I don’t know this chick” bad.

Elevator Girl, Master of Indifference

I had lunch with Michelle just now. I asked her about that guy was dating and she said it didn’t work out.

And she’s not seeing anyone new either.

She asked about me and I said I was dating Jennifer. I told her it was early on in the relationship (which she obviously interpreted as meaning we hadn’t slept together yet), but that I like her. She seemed genuinely happy for me, which was not at all what I was going for.

Maybe Michelle is just a good actress but she sure didn’t seem like she was upset that I “moved on.” I told her about Jennifer’s band and how I’m going to see them tomorrow night. She said, “She sounds really cool.” And then we talked about other stuff.

I don’t know why but I feel totally pissed off right now.

Goodbye, My Love

Gunther came by last night to pick up Ms. Pac Man. He brought some sketchy dude named “Gordo,” which I assumed meant his name was Gordon, but he said it didn’t and I didn’t pursue it any further.

I was really getting into the idea of being a guy with a giant video game in his apartment. Jennifer obviously liked it, so I can only assume it would be popular with most ladies. And why wouldn’t it be? It’s Ms. Pac Man after all. An icon of the women’s rights movement.

I realize of course that I could have just bought it from Gunther. In fact, I wondered whether that was his plan all along. But it’s a little frivolous to spend your money on shit like that and it did take up a lot of space. So tonight I helped the two of them move it out and into a shipping crate.

By the way, this guy Gordo, he’s a real weirdo. Apparently he does “odd jobs” for Gunther and other people he knows. But he didn’t say “odd jobs” like the phrase it usually said, like with equal emphasis on “odd” and “jobs.” He said it like, “ODD jobs,” like not miscellaneous, but actually odd.

I was like, “Oh really, what kind of ODD jobs do you do?”

He said he once drove a “friend’s” car into the dessert and abandoned it there. Then he had a different friend come pick him up. (He didn’t think to have the friend drive out there with him in the first place. Instead, he waited four hours by the side of the road.)

I asked him what was in the car. He said that information was “beyond his pay grade.”

I told him that he could have been charged as an accessory if he was concealing something illegal, like say, a dead body.

He replied triumphantly, “Yeah, and that’s why they paid me forty-five bucks!”

Well played, sir.

Jennifer, Meet My Girlfriend…

Well, it happened. Jennifer met my girlfriend who’s been living with me for the last week… Ms. Pac Man.

She loved it! We literally played Ms. Pac Man till 2:00 in the morning. On the one hand, it was fun just hanging out and playing the game while getting increasingly drunk. I really got to know her and Jennifer is an interesting chick. She is like a double agent, wearing really expensive clothes by day for her job as Nordstroms. But then her band plays on weekends and she is kind of scary as a rocker grrrl. (I haven’t actually seen her perform yet, maybe next weekend.)

So Jennifer had no problem with a giant vintage video game in the middle of my apartment. The only downside is that Ms. Pac Man may have technically cock-blocked me. I’m pretty sure Jennifer was up for some fooling around when she agreed to go back to my place. The fact that I didn’t get any action at all can only be the result of her falling asleep on my couch while I was on an especially long turn. (I did finally kiss her when we said goodbye Sunday morning, but you get the idea.)

So now I’m wondering, what happens when Gunther sells the game? What if Jennifer is really just using me for my access to free Ms. Pac Man?

Wrong Number

The other day, a lady called me at work and when I answered she said, “Oh, sorry, wrong number.”

I said, “What number are you trying to reach?”

She gave it to me, I told her where she went wrong and that was that.

Except it wasn’t.

Before she could hang up, I said, “Wait, let me ask you something. As long as I’ve got you on the phone, and you being a neutral third-party, I need to ask your opinion about something.”

She said, “Okay…” a little leery.

I asked, “Hypothetically speaking, say a guy is in love with a girl and that girl probably is into him, but she’s not ready to be serious yet because she just got out of a relationship. But then a different girl comes along, who’s cool and everything, and maybe would be fun to date, but isn’t like the first girl… would you date the second girl while you were waiting for the first girl?”

There was a long pause and then she proceeded to give me her opinion for about twenty minutes. It boiled down to “it depends.” Anyway, I took it as a green light to go out with Jennifer, so that’s why I did.

Oh, and p.s., I did call Jennifer on Tuesday and it turns out she did like me, but she had a cold sore and didn’t want to tell me. That’s why she turned her head away. I told her it was moves like that that could cost her the love of her life one day. Anyway, we’re going out again this weekend.

Jenny from the Froyo Shop

I went out with Jennifer Friday night. (She’s the girl I met at the frozen yogurt shop.) Picked her up in Santa Monica and went to the new mall for dinner at some place called Xino.

Jennifer is a buyer for Nordstroms and actually works at the mall. I don’t really get the whole concept of a buyer and even after she explained it to me I was still somewhat unclear. But that’s just her day job. Turns out, Jennifer is in a local band and plays clubs up and down the Sunset Strip.

That one piece of information totally changed my perception of her. Suddenly, she was a cool rocker chick instead of some fashionista. Actually, the idea of dating a girl in a band is a little intimidating. Like, if it ever worked out, would I have to go to clubs all the time and party till 6 am? Or if I didn’t go, wouldn’t she just hook up with random dudes in sleazy bathrooms? On the other hand, I bet she’d totally be up for a three-way.

As it turns out, none of those problems are presenting themselves at the moment. After a pretty good dinner, we went to the bowling alley on Pico and had a really fun time. But when I dropped her off, I went to kiss her and she turned her head. That’s right. I got the “cheek.”

I took this as a bad sign. Like, “I like you, but not that way.” I guess I should call her anyway, just to be sure, but it looks like this one went south on me for some reason.

Olive Juice in Gangland

Just a bit of trivia: The most popular search terms that mistakenly lead people to this blog are “Olive Juice” and “Gangland.”

Olive Juice was the title of my post back in September about my previous girlfriend jumping the gun on things. Gangland is from October when I went to watch a game at a garage attendant’s apartment.

Being a bit of a logophile, I am fascinated by how some terms’ uniqueness make them powerful search terms. Kind of wondering what the next one will be.

Ms. Pac Man

Gunther as you may recall buys and sells things on eBay.

For a living. (The whole story is back here.) Anyway, he took delivery of a stand-up Ms. Pac Man machine and I agreed to let him keep it in my apartment. (Gunther’s place is filled with an amazing array of crap, ever-changing and totally useless.)

After the shipping guy, Gunther, and I got the thing into my apartment, two thoughts crossed my mind: first, would this game actually still be addictive after thirty years? It was set to free play, and Gunther said I could play it all I wanted until he sold it, but the question was, would I? Surely video games have come so far that a vintage game like this would hold no appeal.

Well, to answer the first question, Ms. Pac Man still has it. She’s a sexy beast and her age hasn’t made her any less attractive.

The other question I was wondering about is whether I will look like a tool to girls who may come back to my place on a date. I mean, what kind of loser has a 68″ Ms. Pac Man in his living room?

We shall see, because Jennifer the froyo chick is going out with me Friday night.

4-Legged Dog Girl

I saw Polly again and asked about the new dog I saw her with. First of all, his name is “Fellini,” which seems a little pretentious.

Second, Fellini is a mixed breed, but mostly Lab. And third, unlike François, Fellini has four legs.

It was obviously a sensitive subject but I was super curious so I gently started with, “I noticed that Fellini has all his legs…”

She said, “I know, everyone is asking the same thing. The truth is, I looked for another special needs dog at the shelter but they didn’t have any. So Fellini lucked out.”

Turns out, dogs with missing limbs are the first ones euthanized, so Polly has had several “special needs” dogs over the years. In fact, this is the first dog she’s had with all four legs.

I told her that all dogs go to heaven and she’d be right there with them.