Friday, May 13, 2011

Fay Wray

How I spent my evening: just surfing.

It's from Photoplay Magazine, 1927, I believe. If its here because I saw someone today, it wasn't anyone I had a conversation with-don't let the park get to me.
Here's the gamut: the older woman approaches me while we're both having a cigarette so my thought was this will never happen again, there's no doubt she's one of the only one's I'm compatible with, but I cut the conversation short. Which I should of, I'll be 49 and I want is the company, meaning get into bed. So I let her act like we had nothing to talk about, why guess whether she's 59 or not. Someone was sitting behind me quietly reading, not saying a word while I was having coffee I would have loved to invite nearly anywhere. So after letting the experienced woman toddle off in a culture-daze, I neglected to think of someway to speak to the 20 year old, meaning I took it for granted. I could have brought a coffee over within minutes. But the new idea is let me read your book while you surf for a little while, its a matter of being together. So I spent the evening surfing. Why is that cool, well if I told her everything it would include that the most beautiful, and most scantily blond runner I've ever seen passed by later on the Boston side of the Mass Ave bridge and I would end up explaining that because of the height and weight, the build is almost too much the same, you would think about the curves of 5'2 100lbs approximately and miss not having stayed in the park reading no matter for how long you had to stare. So I took a night off from weight lifting to write and I'll have to make up for it- it was four nights this week. My lift yesterday: over 200lbs on six Nautilis machines and I present weight 135- but on both the torso and lap pull down I made more than ten repetitions at 245lbs. I honestly do work them if I go in there. But knowing how the park is going to get to me, just sitting there super sexy reading and what tonight would have been like after having said, "Whatever you feel like doing."
I called M.I.T was about all; I was listening to Music For Human Beings on WMBR again, and a show I almost like better in certain ways, Terravoice, came on when my technology sputtered, so I asked if there was a quick, easy way to listen and the person in the control room said she didn't know alot about the internet. My voice may not have been what I would have like it to be nor were my choice of words exceptional, but she was nice and neither of us acknowledged that I might be fatigued. If nothing else you would want an acceptance of politeness, but again, I may have been more tired than i realized having crossed through the city again (from about Suffolk to Berklee), but for the first time this spring.
(Guess who I saw?)
( Seriously, I wouldn't mention it to you and all the better I have no need to; especially if I can't (didn't) figure out how to send a coffee from one end of a bench to the other without wondering why some movie star from the sixties doesn't realize that I don't exactly have my whole life ahead of me-I'm glad there's something or somewhere I've been that doesn't really bother me enough. One of the places I would often have lunch is closing too.)

ps. Maybe I am that tired, its 2:30 in the morning and before going to bed, I hadn't thought of the girl I opened the door for across the street from Lord and Taylor. It would make good descriptive fiction but her eyes in some way "pretended to recognize me or pretended she was hoping to see me" I was right there. I may have momentarily underestimated her age and social position (bluntly, wealth), but I did go over and I put it oddly, almost to say that when I was opening the door she was almost too pretty to speak to; I phrased it that I really didn't quite know that she had made the decision to come into to the store, as though it was experience instinct that I knew what she might be thinking, but I only waited and held the door open out of a polite guess. Maybe she was under 25 and just cute. (It wouldn't have been the wealth itself. she really didn't act that silly about it, just the "what next?".)