Free Sangria

The things you will tell someone as you're trying to get to know them are bizarre and unpredictable.

For example, I found myself soliloquizing this evening about my arch-nemesis from high school.

Now.

I don't often talk about my arch-nemesis. I am unsure whether I've even mentioned his existence to some (most? any?) of my best friends. I never, ever consciously think about him. He has been stricken from the record.

He doesn't exist until I am trying to explain who I am to someone who knows nothing about me, and for some reason I end up talking about my arch-nemesis from high school.

Why is that? Is it to explain what annoys me about the world without directly saying "It annoys me when smarmy people get ahead of qualified people by cheating and because they are better looking?" Is it to remind myself that I have a past? Is it because the term "arch-nemesis" isn't used enough and because it makes for good conversation to share stories about enemies? Why did I even bring this up? I have no idea.

The arch-nemesis conversation occurred this evening over Mexican food. The restaurant was very non-New York. This means that it was not scene-y. It reminded me of Boston and made me feel warm and fuzzy. I did not feel warm and fuzzy about the price of Quesadillas, though. I was made, however, to feel extremely warm and fuzzy when the waiter brought over two glasses of sangria. We were like "We didn't order..." and he smiled adorably and said "It's on the house."

I have no explanation for this. Nobody else in the restaurant got free sangria. More data must be collected....

In other news, finally!!! someone at work did an impression of Ja Rule. Again, warm and fuzzy. It's been far too long since someone in my life imitated Ja Rule. My new Bench Buddy did it and it was fantastic. I became giddy, which prompted him to do more hip hop impressions, including doing all three parts (Ja Rule included) of that Fat Joe / Ashanti "What's love got to do... got to do... got to do wtih it...." song. These impressions most likely resulted from my declaration of "We have to get a Snoop Dogg action figure as a mascot for our bay!"

This new guy rocks. He also said, unprompted, "Well, if you want some cute indie pop boys to hang out with, you should meet my friends."

Yes, Bench Buddy, you said the magic words. Cute. Indie. Pop. Boys.

Damn sangria. I am simultaneously exhausted and spastic so....

More on the topic of getting to know new people...

Sometimes when you find yourself getting to know new people, you will not only tell them bizarre things about yourself that you never tell anyone and relay ancient anecdotes and say things like "oh yeah? well my hometown has COWS!", you might find yourself allowing them to hear your original songs on your Ipod.

This might weird you out because nobody other than you has actually heard these songs in crisp, raw, non-audio-blogged form. And because nobody in your new life knows about this part of you.

It might weird you out even more because you have to watch this person listen to your music, which is basically like watching someone read your diary, and all you want to do is scream "Well, do you hate it?" but you don't, because you are truly afraid that they do.

And it might make you pause when you realize that the only reason you allowed them to listen to the songs is because they were adorable when they stuttered "Why can't I talk around you?"

And it might embarrass you even more than you are already embarrassed when they say, after listening, something like "You seem really nervous" as you blush uncontrollably.

And it might frustrate you to no end because you just did something you never do, and because for you, having someone listen to your music while you are there is more intimacy than you know how to handle. It's more than you're used to. It makes you feel like a freak and makes you want to yell "I am nervous because I feel like you just saw me naked or something!" but instead you just take your Ipod back and don't ask if the music was good or not.

And then its the next day at work and you look up and unexpectedly see this person and they look different to you.

And you smile differently.

Because you feel like he saw a part of you that nobody else sees and for some reason he still smiles at you.

It's weird - that moment when you see someone differently and you think "Happy" and then "Oh shit" and then "Maybe its time to find a therapist here."