Update time again.
Well, let's see. I've been encouraged to tell of the soiree that Storey, Maxwell_Demon and I went to last Saturday.
About ten o'clock or so that night I was informed that we were going to the birthday party of our friend (more their friend, my acquaintance) Nikki. I thought, okay I could do this, nothing better to do. Turns out the party was in the general area of downtown Denver and at first I thought the party was in some kind of club. Also, it wasn't just a birthday party but sort of a party-for-everyone-who-couldn't-go-to-Burning-Man event. It was actually a friend of Nikki's home that was converted out of a hundred-year-old grocery store. It was pretty damn spiffy. Really high ceiling, strange stuff hung or strewn about the place. There was a sheet hung up and a projector playing some kind of superimposed images of a couple oddball movies weaving in and out of each other. There were only a few people there for a couple hours: The three of us, Nikki, Todd (the guy who lives there) and two more guys and two more girls whose names I didn't catch. One of the guys was DJing.
It looked that the hgihlight of the evening was watching all of the Thriller music video on the makshift bigscreen but people started trickling in about 11:30 or so. By this time our little group was well into our cups. I found myself in the kitchen reading all the cabinets, walls and appliances (indy people seem to put things like that up) quietly enjoying myself. A girl comes into the kitchen and asks me if there's anyone using the bathroom which adjoins the kitchen (there was) and I suddenly find myself in a conversation with her.
Now, that may not seem odd to a lot of folks, but I hardly ever see a member of the fairer sex between 10 and 40 (maybe two or three a month tops), much less speak with one. Stranger still, Ashley (that's her name) and I actually hit it off. Much stranger still I don't have a quiet anxiety attack. Much, much stranger still, near as I can figure we end up talking for a total of about three hours that evening. I had a really great time that night. The only catch (there's always a catch) was that she was a full seventeen years old; ain't that a kick in the teeth? My luck so far is holding strong: nearly all bad. For me, the most astounding part is that I'm not upset. Disappointed yes, but not my usually bitter, cynical, pessimistic response.
Here's to hoping the next girl won't be jailbait!
Well, let's see. I've been encouraged to tell of the soiree that Storey, Maxwell_Demon and I went to last Saturday.
About ten o'clock or so that night I was informed that we were going to the birthday party of our friend (more their friend, my acquaintance) Nikki. I thought, okay I could do this, nothing better to do. Turns out the party was in the general area of downtown Denver and at first I thought the party was in some kind of club. Also, it wasn't just a birthday party but sort of a party-for-everyone-who-couldn't-go-to-Burning-Man event. It was actually a friend of Nikki's home that was converted out of a hundred-year-old grocery store. It was pretty damn spiffy. Really high ceiling, strange stuff hung or strewn about the place. There was a sheet hung up and a projector playing some kind of superimposed images of a couple oddball movies weaving in and out of each other. There were only a few people there for a couple hours: The three of us, Nikki, Todd (the guy who lives there) and two more guys and two more girls whose names I didn't catch. One of the guys was DJing.
It looked that the hgihlight of the evening was watching all of the Thriller music video on the makshift bigscreen but people started trickling in about 11:30 or so. By this time our little group was well into our cups. I found myself in the kitchen reading all the cabinets, walls and appliances (indy people seem to put things like that up) quietly enjoying myself. A girl comes into the kitchen and asks me if there's anyone using the bathroom which adjoins the kitchen (there was) and I suddenly find myself in a conversation with her.
Now, that may not seem odd to a lot of folks, but I hardly ever see a member of the fairer sex between 10 and 40 (maybe two or three a month tops), much less speak with one. Stranger still, Ashley (that's her name) and I actually hit it off. Much stranger still I don't have a quiet anxiety attack. Much, much stranger still, near as I can figure we end up talking for a total of about three hours that evening. I had a really great time that night. The only catch (there's always a catch) was that she was a full seventeen years old; ain't that a kick in the teeth? My luck so far is holding strong: nearly all bad. For me, the most astounding part is that I'm not upset. Disappointed yes, but not my usually bitter, cynical, pessimistic response.
Here's to hoping the next girl won't be jailbait!
VIEW 6 of 6 COMMENTS
rorschach:
Welcome to the Friends Of Narnia! 
awryx:
well thanks because everyone keeps telling me it's bad and im like "i like bad movies" so i cant wait to see resident evil haha. 