(From an email I sent back in July)
So here's the funny story. At my regular watering hole, there's always this group of lesbians hanging out, they pretty much only go to that bar because St Cloud isn't really all that open minded about things yet (gee, imagine that, a small town with closed-minded people). I always kind of wonder why they still live in town and not someplace that's a little more accepting.
I always end up bantering with them and talking shit, and its always good natured. So last night I head down there so I can watch the Daily Show, like I typically do, even though I should be packing up my apartment, have a couple of whiskeys and chase them with a couple of beers, and start chatting it up with the lesbians like I told you, telling them how much Ani DiFranco sucks, and that they really need to check out this band called Rock Bitch (you'd get a kick out of them, their live performances are banned everywhere in Europe except amsterdam, so you can imagine what its all about).
Anyway, one of these girls is absolutely convinced that I want to be her roommate in Minneapolis, like to the point of almost obsession. To the point of like "Oh man, its going to be so much fun, we're going to have to have like a weekly roommate hang out night and stuff like that. I love listening to Lucinda Williams every morning, and don't cook anything with meat in it in my pans." I finally couldn't take it anymore and told her that I really want to live by myself. Her face dropped, she went and had another drink and came back up to me and said "Well, how about if we were roommates with benefits?"
I almost shot a big gulp of whiskey out my nose when she said that. Now typically, this is should be some kind of dream come true for any guy. This was one of those times when the little devil and little angel appear on my shoulders. The devil is saying "Yeah, yeah, do it, do it! How often is a lesbian going to throw herself at you?" and the Angel says "Baaaad idea, she's crazy, not attractive, and you'll end up throwing yourself out the window after a week of her incessant babbling, violin playing, and listening to Lucinda Williams and Ani DiFranco". And seriously, roommate hangout night? What am I a mormon?
After I regained my composure and slugged down the rest of my whiskey, I made eye contact with her as she looked at me expectantly, and said "Honestly, I couldn't think of a better recipe for disaster, no offense to you, but no". She suddenly took on this look like lettuce on the second half of a subway footlong sub that you put in the fridge with the intention of having it for lunch the next day, and slunk back off to her friends.
The whole premise if I would have said yes was playing out in my head after that like a movie with Owen Wilson and Maggie Gyllenhaal, except without the 'hilarity ensues' ending on the plot synopsis.
So yeah, that was my night, bizarre yet funny in a strange way. Life is starting to get more interesting, and these strange encounters like that are more hilarious than uncomfortable. After all this happened I had to go outside and think about it and make sure I didn't just imagine all that happening. Then I started wondering if I should be kicking myself for not opening the door when opportunity knocked. But I guess sometimes when opportunity knocks, its Jehovah's Witnesses or crazy lesbians at your door, and its best not to open it and see what happens.
That all being said, the above mentioned crazy lesbian is still after me, she lives here in Minneapolis now, and its almost gotten to stalker status. I've never had one before, so I'm going to let it play out for a little while and see what happens. I do have to say that I've lived here for 7 weeks now and I haven't run into her, so that's a good thing.
I'm also suddenly able to afford things, like food, beer, and have enough left over to have some fun with (which in my circle tends to be going to bars and then sneaking out in the alley to smoke weed). Its not a bad way to go.
In other news, the transmission in my van went out. Have I introduced my van? I don't think I have. Well, here she is.
She's been dubbed "The Red Vangina" by my ever so mature friend Maaren. Well anyway, I was driving down the highway on my way to meet some friends at one of the dirtiest, diviest bars in Minneapolis, and suddenly 3rd gear decided to stop working. Scary stuff, considering we replaced the transmission TWICE last summer in Alaska. I limped her home and called up my transmission guy, Billy.
Lets talk about Billy a bit. He's a good friend of my roommate Frank. They were cellmates at Sandstone Prison. Frank was doing a bit for drugs, and Billy was a very good bank robber and B&E guy. Well friends, both of these guys are reformed nice people who'd give you the shirt off their back if you needed it. But Billy got his start young, he told me he did his first B&E (breaking and entering) at 11 years old, the sunday of his first communion. But now he's on the good side of the law and is one hell of a mechanic.
So Billy comes over, takes my car for a test drive, plugs his diagnostic computer into it, and tells me that its just a blown solenoid, and that he'd fix it for $300. So the next day he comes over and fixes it all up and I cut him a check for the repair. The van runs fine, but fast forward 3 days....I run into Billy again, and he tells me that he overcharged my for the repairs and that as an apology, he'll put the cd player that I've attempted several times to install into my van. FUCKING SWEET!
I don't know if anyone else really thinks about it that much, but its very important when you move to a new town to find yourself an honest mechanic. They're few and far between, and you need to be careful to treat them right so they don't fuck you over. Well, treating Billy right is pretty easy. Miller High Life and a joint. That's all he asks for doing minor repairs, which is fucking killer.
On the job front, I asked my boss the other day if I could get some kind of a discount on a computer through the company, and his response....."Just take one of those new ones home with you. Do you need a monitor and all that too?" So I took home a new computer, a nice 19" monitor (to match the other one I have already, and all the fixins. I'm liking working for this company more and more every day. The benefits are very excellent. They pay my cellphone bill and for my internet, I've got a company credit card, getting time off is a breeze, and the people are all really cool. Gotta love it.
Sometimes life cuts you some slack, and I'm really glad. One of these days I'll dive into the ugly world called "My Old Job". But that's another entry, I've babbled on for long enough.
