Ryan (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sanura) wrote,@ 2008-12-21 02:37:00 |
|
I hung with Susan till she had to crash (med issues mean she hasn't been sleeping or eating much for the past five days or so, so it was around 9:30). Then I figured, why not see if Salad is home, since he lives two block away? He was. I hadn't seen him since before the last Pops rehearsal I attended, which has been months, and he is now in charge of Holland as well as Aberdeen and the rest of Scotland, and he hadn't heard anything about my semester, so we had news to catch up on.
I hung with him and some of his junior employees (one of whom is eye-catchingly feline, at least to me) till the football game they were watching was over. We then went to a bar two blocks away, Keneally's, with them. The HSC crowd, namely Salad, is the only social context in which this is interesting for me to do. We went there to meet Bill, who finally came an hour later (not unusual for him). Meanwhile, Salad loves a long-running, hard-hitting prank, and we had time to kill, so we cooked up a plan to make Bill think Salad and I had been sleeping together for years. It's hilarious. Bill and Salad have both known me since I was fourteen; Salad is in his mid-thirties, Bill is over fifty.
I "let it slip" and Bill took Salad aside at the bar and asked him, cause he couldn't work up the nerve to ask me. Salad said "nothing's happening; don't tell her mom." Which should give him the right wrong impression. So if he asks my mom, I've told her "you aren't supposed to know, but you do." That was fun and silly and entirely typical of an evening with Salad.
I walked him home around 2:00 and owed him a backrub since he gave me one at the bar, and, less typically in the history of our friendship, I dunno, maybe he thought he was gonna actually get lucky. He flattered me on the way back, but in the same self-deprecating, awkward, avuncular way he has since I was fourteen and egoless and needed it. Never physical, always talent and potential and skills and intelligence. I think he thinks I'm smarter than he is; I think he's just less socially perceptive (yes, that's saying a lot, but he really is quite exceptionally awkward). In any case, he's always been a gutter-brained (and gutter-mouthed) kidder, but he's never really tried anything. I told him outright when I walked him home that I owed him a backrub but then was going home, 'cause it'll be more fun teasing Bill if it's actually not true. He gently and awkwardly tried something.
I don't know if he really thought he was going to get some, but he didn't. It had crossed my mind while I was parking in front of his house, having come from Susan's where we watched HIMYM episodes about how there are some mistakes you have to make even though you know they're mistakes, just in order to have made them. But for one thing, my life is not a TV show. Plus, what. He was sweet about it, though. And since I've known him since middle school, I didn't have the debilitating freakout reaction I might otherwise have had. Progress?
I hung with him and some of his junior employees (one of whom is eye-catchingly feline, at least to me) till the football game they were watching was over. We then went to a bar two blocks away, Keneally's, with them. The HSC crowd, namely Salad, is the only social context in which this is interesting for me to do. We went there to meet Bill, who finally came an hour later (not unusual for him). Meanwhile, Salad loves a long-running, hard-hitting prank, and we had time to kill, so we cooked up a plan to make Bill think Salad and I had been sleeping together for years. It's hilarious. Bill and Salad have both known me since I was fourteen; Salad is in his mid-thirties, Bill is over fifty.
I "let it slip" and Bill took Salad aside at the bar and asked him, cause he couldn't work up the nerve to ask me. Salad said "nothing's happening; don't tell her mom." Which should give him the right wrong impression. So if he asks my mom, I've told her "you aren't supposed to know, but you do." That was fun and silly and entirely typical of an evening with Salad.
I walked him home around 2:00 and owed him a backrub since he gave me one at the bar, and, less typically in the history of our friendship, I dunno, maybe he thought he was gonna actually get lucky. He flattered me on the way back, but in the same self-deprecating, awkward, avuncular way he has since I was fourteen and egoless and needed it. Never physical, always talent and potential and skills and intelligence. I think he thinks I'm smarter than he is; I think he's just less socially perceptive (yes, that's saying a lot, but he really is quite exceptionally awkward). In any case, he's always been a gutter-brained (and gutter-mouthed) kidder, but he's never really tried anything. I told him outright when I walked him home that I owed him a backrub but then was going home, 'cause it'll be more fun teasing Bill if it's actually not true. He gently and awkwardly tried something.
I don't know if he really thought he was going to get some, but he didn't. It had crossed my mind while I was parking in front of his house, having come from Susan's where we watched HIMYM episodes about how there are some mistakes you have to make even though you know they're mistakes, just in order to have made them. But for one thing, my life is not a TV show. Plus, what. He was sweet about it, though. And since I've known him since middle school, I didn't have the debilitating freakout reaction I might otherwise have had. Progress?
