Still Losing My Frickin' Mind
08.19.05 (6:22 pm) [edit]Good morning, love.
Doing it again. Waking up and spending an hour in bed thinking about her. Wanting to hold her close. Pure thoughts. Nice thoughts. Fucking insane! I'm not jerking off??? What the fuck is up with me, man???
Pure, happy, selfless thoughts. Even Christians can get away with this. Ahhhh, Jenny. You are too good to be true.
Go to work. See her immediately, "Good morning!" I walk with her (I'm walking with her! I'm walking with her!) towards the front of the building, asking her about how to go about asking for time off. (Going to be needing two days at the end of September for the ridiculous schedule my band up north has for a James Dean Festival.) She tells me to talk to the supervisor, still very friendly, but not quite as bright as usual. She's not quite as radiant. Her face is pinker. Maybe she's not feeling good. I'd like to help. Take her in my arms...whisper in her ear...make everything in her world good again....
(Everyone reading this screams) "Enough! You're making US sick!"
I ask her how she is. She says "Very well!" but it seems like she isn't feeling quite so good. Probably just tired. Fuck knows I am. It's Friday. My back and feet are fucking killing me.
I half-wonder what I would have said if she said "Actually I'm not feeling so good right now."
I'd jump right into my sword-fighter pose.
"What??? Who are they? Who are these scurvy bastards who dare ruin this lovely maiden's day! The swine! I'll fillet them with my trusty sword! Their bones I will crush to powder! Never fear, fair lady! *I* shall protect you!"
Could be interesting. After all, I've been there two weeks and haven't heard anyone call for security yet. Could be fun.
As she walks away, I notice something. I was so busy looking into that amazing face that I hadn't noticed she was wearing jeans. Casual as I've seen her, though her shirt was business-like as normal. The jeans are tight. They don't frame her as effectively as her usual slacks, actually, but....but...butt................all the innocent, sweet, Jesus-approved mushiness from the morning is going away fast, motherfuckers...
Oh...my...gawd....look...at...
ASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ass ass ass ass ass ass assassass ass ass ass ass ass assassass
Everybody sing!
I'm going to Hell and I don't care
I'm going to Hell and I don't care
I'm going to Hell and I don't care
Just look at that fucking ass
Ass!
I believe the appropriate phrase is "I want to wear your ass like a hat."
Later, she brings me my check. The first full paycheck i've had in two months. I was standing there boxing something up (huhuhuh, "box", huhuhuh) and felt a presence. I looked up. Holy shit, the girl of my dreams is standing right in front of me, on the other side of the conveyor. She flips throught the checks and hands me mine. With a smile, of course. It's enough for half the rent and a weekend with Katie.
I'd like to say something like, "I could kiss you!" Which might have worked a week ago if I'd said it with just the right measure of humour. Not now. She knows. It's changed now, and I have to edit myself even more than I have been. I've not said 99.9% of the things to her that I've thought. And I probably never will. Gosh darn ding dang dong it.
So I just said, "I can eat! I can eat! Yay!" She smiled a little more and kept walking. Probably towards her can of mace, as my co-worker has said a few times.
I didn't see her except for a quick glimpse one more time. Coming back from the restroom. She was walking in the other direction. We wished each other a good weekend, and she was gone. A blast of fresh air, formally refreshing my face and mind, on vacation for two days. Nobody in the whole place will be looking forward to Monday but me.
Ten minutes before I left, the radio played 867-5309/Jenny. Inside, (I didn't want to scare my co-workers, and it took considerable effort not to) I laughed my balls off.
On the drive home, I turned on the local classic rock station. The DJ says, "You've made it through the week. Now reward yourself. Come see the Steve Miller Band tomorrow night at the Verizon Wireless Music Center."
Fuck you. I'm going back to work.
But then they played It's A Long Way To The Top If You Wanna Rock And Roll, and I rolled the windows down. Driving down the beltway, hair flying everywhere, the first time I've ever come close to singing that song a tenth as well as Bon Scott. The crazed rock and roll freak singing to the radio, crazy in love, quite happy to let every asshole in traffic know about it.
Got a couple Mickey's Big Mouths at the liquor store on the corner a couple miles up. Thought about Tom Waits. Never did like that dog. Gonna be a good night. Tomorrow I pick up Katie and I'll have the whole weekend with her. Starting next week I'm playing bass six Saturdays in a row, with a crazed three-day weekend of rockin' oldies in Fairmount, Indiana (one night opening for Mitch Ryder) in the middle. I'm drinking a Mickey's and eating some jambalaya I just cooked. I'm in love with the most beautiful girl in the world, and I don't even care that she can't be mine. Yep, gonna be a good night. Even here all alone, I'm happy.
Gawd. I'm gonna crash and burn like a motherfucker sometime soon. So what? Love, baby. I'm in love.
Lovey dove dove love,
Dougie