current events

Last night, I was walking home at about midnight listening to TLC's "Fanmail" wanting to be drunk and dancing but happy that I wasn't. Up ahead, I saw the shadow of a tall muscular man. So attractive, so obviously straight, I didn't even have to see his face.

As we got closer, I looked into his face and he was very cute. He looked back at me with "the look." Did I just imagine that? He kept walking. I turned around, he turned around. He waved me over, and not in a I'm going to mug you way. This guy didn't need to do any mugging, he had a face and a body that people threw money at. I came over, took out the earbuds.

"Hi"
"Hi"
I could tell that he was drunk. Beer goggles. I mean he was hot, what was he doing spending an ounce of his time on me. Like the hot guy that turns bad in movies about date-rape.
We shook hands.
"Are you on your way home?" he asked
"Yeah."
I quickly imagined how it would play out, where we'd go, what we'd do, what kind of things he'd want, what I'd be prepared to do, what I wouldn't do.
He was glassy eyed, head trying to stay centered on top of his body. Really drunk or high. Maybe he wanted drugs? I don't know how that works. Do you just stop someone in the street who looks like they might know where to get some pot, some reefer-- I don't even know what you call it.
As he sort of tried to focus in on my face, I asked, "Are you okay?"
He seemed slightly annoyed by the question almost a little angry, "Yeah."
Silence as we stared at each other and the fantasy of being at my apartment, only steps away with this very high but VERY hot guy quickly turned into something I would rather not do.
More silence.
"Well, nice to meet you," he said, shaking hands again. Big hands. Not the size of hands people from my planet have. These were hands that made a lot of money and got a lot of pussy. He had to be straight. If not straight, the type of bisexual that turned into married with kids.
We nodded goodbye.
I walked home into my apartment building regretting not jumping at the chance of being with this hot guy. The regret went away. I changed the lightbulb in my bathroom that had burned out.

This morning I woke up, and turned on the coffeemaker, having prepared it the night before. I went to pour myself a cup and knocked the filter basket off as I clumsily pulled the pot off the burner. French roast grounds and hot water poured all over the counter and the toaster. Still haven't cleaned it up. Not quite sure how I'm going to handle that one.

Oh, and I set my pants on fire two days ago. I'm not interested in telling that story again.