2007-04-20 @ 4:41 p.m.
I wasn't sure how well the folding of 800 pages of press material for our event at Charlemagne's house would go last night, especially since he's perpetually late, he has two frisky cats, he's a little scattered, I asked him for some music and he disappeared for like 20 minutes trying to figure out how to turn on a Laurie Anderson DVD on his television and then we inexplicably segued into talking about pubic hairs in the tub when you have room mates.
Yup, I must have been at Charlemagne's house.
And yes he WAS 20 minutes late and I had sent the third guy to call him at a local store since neither of us have a cell phone. But then he came slamming into the driveway at about 3100 mph, apologizing as usual. And then we only had part of the materials (not his fault) and no mailing labels (also not his fault), but we set everything up on his dining room table and I got to be the stuffer-innerer. We had lots of lively conversations. The Tall Guy just sort of looked at us two bipolars kind of shaking his head like WTF, since none of anything we said made any sense or was related in anyway. I think I finally realize why I like Charlemagne. We speak the same language. Bipolarese.
There was lots of phone calls coming in and two knocks on the door. One was Our Fearless Art Leader bringing in the second half of the printing, although about a hundred of them were printed at 50% the correct size. And then there was a second knock and I went and got the door with Charlemagne screaming "Don't let the cats out, don't let the cats out". And guess who it was? Go ahead guess...Handyman, the guy I had briefly dated back in October and November. Oy!
He lives across the street of course, but I think a call was made to be honest. You just don't randomly wander over to your neighbor's house when you see several strange cars parked out front. I felt like reenacting that "Seinfeld" scene and saying, "Hello Newman" when he came in the door. Did I ever mention he talks with a slight lisp? So I let him in...grudgingly and Charlemagne forced him into "volunteering for our nonprofit organization...since it feels so good!". And naturally he had to sit right next to me, since I was the stuffer-innerer and he became the stamp-lickerer.
Anyhoo, he immediately made a "Seinfield" reference to that too and asked if these were like those poisonous stamps George Constanza gave his wife to lick for their wedding invitations. I immediately looked over at Charlemagne and went "Shhhh! Don't tell him!" Heh, heh. See, I just wanted to live up to the reason we supposedly broke up. He had told me he was only attracted to "Charming people". So why be charming, right?
So all our chaotic conversation continued. Charlemagne continued to try and figure out the DVD in the living room until suddenly "Pennies from Heaven" started playing from some orifice. Not exactly Laurie Anderson, but it was fine with me. Then Handyman started singing along. I knew I needed a little break so I got some water. I also got some for Tall Guy. Handyman asked why I didn't get him some and was he "chopped liver"? Hey, if the shoe fits.
And I guess since I was being mean to him, it was kinda turning him on, since he then started trying to impress me with the fact that he was taking a cooking class and was now an excellent griller. And then he said he was going to a dancing event once a week....two blocks from my house...blah, blah, blah...bzzzz.bzzz.bzzzz.would....you....like....to.....go....with....me?
You're asking me out? Didn't we already clarify that this was a done deal? I had to feel bad about myself for about a month because some chump said I wasn't charming and fed me leftovers on my last date and now you want to go dancing with me? Wait, let me go look up "chutzpah" in the dictionary because I'm fairly certain I'll find your face plastered all over that page. I mean, the nerve of that guy!
So he finally left after "the asking witty to go dancing" part. I think the licking of stamps might have been secondary, if you know what I mean since Charlemagne said, "Oh you two looked like you were having fun. You were all giggly and shit." I then hit Charlemagne in the head with a stack of envelopes. I think I hit him a total of about 5 times in the head with something. He finally asked me to stop which I did since he seemed serious. But geeze. I was making fun of him, I wasn't flirting with him. And I definitely didn't give him a yes on going dancing with him. I told him I am totally klutzy and didn't know how to dance and besides, he kept referring to people like me as "Granola-types". What am I, a freakin' health food snack?
So enough about that. I have to prepare for a one day art show tomorrow night. Its my twice a year freaky space aliens/naked boobs/rabid bats art show where art dares not meet culturrrrre. Its where all the cool artist in town display their strangest work. I think I'm gonna toss in my she-wolf with the naked boys painting. I just have to add in some tasty little wolf teats for the boys tonight. More later Granola-Heads!
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty