I'm Studying You

The antagonizer in full effect.

Word...don't forget your late pass.

Wasn't gonna blog today, but since I woke up feeling a lot more like my $50 dollar self than the 50 cents I've been dealing with the last few days, I figured I'd stop by and say hi. And tell you what my visit to The Wall was like. The match-breaker got his game on tight. I'm still sporting my dirty smirk.

So let's back up. Friday night I texted Jess to no reply. No big. I found out why today.

I grab my merch and wait in a line that would put the Million Man March to shame. I get antsy when the line is more than 3 deep, so I wander and stare at shit and make faces and imagine what the next conversation might sound like. After the rebirth of eternity, I finally have the opportunity to pay up before I leave The Wall a shoplifter instead.

Jess looks at me with a wrinkled nose, a huge stink-eye and straight-up screwfacing me so hard that I think my ego landed somewhere in aisle 4 next to the Advil. Someone's bra is obviously on a little too tight today.

"Yo, why you gotta look at me like that?" I said. I had my Used t-shirt on, but Bert is definitely not her homeboy right now.

I think she was gonna hyperventilate as she managed to blast into me with a voice that was equal parts pissed and enamored. "You got me in a whole lot of trouble the other night!!!" (The amount of exclamation points is a ballpark estimate surely on the shy side.)

Cue Ashley's "shit son" emoticon...here.

My homewrecker experience kicked in hard. "I'm good like that" in a tone that said "that's life" with a mile high smirk on my grill that no amount of Ajax could scrub off.

She scanned my Mountain Dew, slammed it on the counter and said "I should shake your pop up on you." I said "No matter, I probably shook it up while waiting in this forever-long line" and stuck it in my bag. I had to pull out the sarcastic retallitory dick line because the fuel needs more fire.

She looks at me like she can't hide the smile or her face is gonna crack, shoves my newspaper at me and curtly (and definitely in capital letters) says "BYE". I gave her a peace out and strolled to the door like the battered heavyweight who took the battle in the 12th round.

I know what it all means and I'm cool with it. So she's probably still dabbling with that pretender. Fine with me...puts me in position to mack uninhibited-like, lay low, keep my calm and jump only when the train has slowed down on the tracks.

So I'm peacin' pretty well right now, and usually I sign off by encouraging the spreading of love, but today isn't that kind of day. Outside I look all jovial and it's been a fun day chillin' with the boys, but to paraphase the words of the great Gord Downie, my mind is smashing its gear like The Who at good old Monterrey. So in my honor, go tell someone to fuck off. It can be a very liberating thing just saying it, even if you're not really serious. Happy sunday night y'all!