Feb. 25th, 2004

raybear: (Wiley)
I have so many words. I have an entire entry written on my heart and another in my head, and I can't quite get to the former, but I'm not sure the latter can get done first. I will try anyway to just write the one in my head.

Yesterday evening I rushed home to walk the dog and change shirts for the Mardi Gras Not-Dinner Party. I managed to catch both buses within seconds, and in true Raybear atomic clock fashion, after telling Ms. Verge on the phone "I'll probably get there around 6ish", I was tapping her doorbell at 6:00:13 pm. She came down in a bathrobe because she'd been sleeping. Something about the entire scenario -- the stairs, the hallway, her robe -- brought back strong visual and olfactory memories of [livejournal.com profile] wearemany and visiting her apartment over the Sherman Street restaurant.

She got ready for the party and we put on beads and eventually left the house successfully without actually knowing where we were going. But we made it there, again with the help of superb bus luck.

This party was thrown by a friend of hers, sort of a friend of a close friends. This guy is also someone I went on a blind date a year and a half ago when I last placed a personal ad. He didn't remember me. I didn't remember him the right way. I didn't bring it up when I spoke with him. He's a very sweet guy with a nice apartment and unusual but entertaining friends. I spent most of the evening drinking red wine in tiny portions (everyone was drinking out of champagne glasses that seemed to only hold one ounce of liquid), eating lots of cheese, making jokes about how we were invited to a DINNER party and no dinner was in sight, and primarily talking with Ms. Verge and her "boys", a funny and charming pair who occasionally eyed me suspiciously to size me up. They're quite protective of her, which I could appreciate.

Another random connection at the party included the arrival of a guy who lived in my freshman dorm and his girlfriend. They were actually dating before college (or perhaps it started in the first week), and I was impressed they came to the party together, obviously still a couple, all these years later. She recognized me vaguely, in that half-smile shy "hi" sort of way where you don't really know the person but think you should. He didn't look at me twice, but then again, he was always that way.

I was telling this story to Ms. V, including a story about a previous encounter with the girlfriend a couple years ago when she came into Feminist Bookstore while I was working and we chatted. She remembered me from college, but when she asked my name, I said "Ray", which was obviously not my name in college. Her perplexed reaction was amusing.

Ms. V stopped me and said "you worked at [Feminist Bookstore]? Did you know [Her Poet Ex]? I moved to Chicago to be with her." The random crazy connections just weren't letting up one bit.

A live band performed composed of a keyboardist, vocalist, and occasional guitarist, and they did a mix of bizarre original songs and reworked covers. The cover songs ranged from "Eye of the Tiger" to "Ignition (remix)". Then the host did a "magic" show that was more comedy and performance. I was quite taken by the person in a full bear costume who introduced them. I envied his bear suit and perhaps had my first moment of furry fantasy ever.

We left shortly after, taking a cab home, and although Ms. Verge had to get up at an insane hour to teach, I came upstairs to finish a conversation or two. When I left I could have easily walked home. Well, not easily in the physical sense since I was more than 20 blocks away, but in the mental sense. It was a little too cold and late for that, so when a cab approached, I waved him down.

I always overtip in cabs. Possibly even more than I overtip in restaurants.

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