Monday, November 06, 2006

Night Out, Flash Fiction, On First Touch

Last night was RnR time and I stepped out with Bobo to Smith's to meet Guy-Bobo-Not-Like, Abe, Isabebe, Waffle, Vodka Boy at Smith's which is a giant hole in the wall while being classy at the same time. They have the Smith's Cream Soda (big fan of Cream Soda) which well, doesn't have any cream soda in it (Stoli Vanilla, sugar and lemonade) which was surprisingly very good without tasting potent. A few of those and i was good to goooo. Anyway, was fun chilling out and then we decided to head out, Bobo with big grin on face and Vodka boy on arm departed (oh me oh my). I of course wanted to eat and well, Abe, Isabebe and Not Like live together and wanted to go home but Isabebe was keen on waffles...either that or when was insistent on coming with me I was like, eh?? Anyway, hey, if a woman takes my arm and tells people she wants to hang out with me, a few drinks in me and I won't be averse to hanging out (no you pervs, am not euphamising or anything (reallllllly!) so anyway the happy foursome set off for Balans where I proceeded to entertain (how I don't recall).

But was up at 9am to take a call (contrary to popularly held belief) and decided to have a constructive day which comprised time alone which I don't like doing, don’t like doing much alone but its a necessary evil (confused you are? well, won't elaborate here but I know what I mean). So I first went to the vintage store and I love the rows upon rows of magazines all the way from the 1920's until the 90's. It's pop culture in a shelf, for every year, for every decade. I loved seeing the vintage Playboys, and no, you can't take them out of the sleeves but the covers pretty much tell the story of what was hot and well, , I mean really?! Cheryl Tiegs hair? The frizzy hair-spray do's? Oh well, there is just no accounting for taste in the past. I did come across the 1972 Time with Richard Bach on the cover though and bought it. It's fascinating that magazine...even the advertisements for TWA, cigarettes that aren't around, its a time capsule I tells ya! It's got stuff on the Libyan terrorists, the theaters that were running at the time, movie reviews and this is Time mind you! Oh well, more on that magazine when I read more of it, haven't event gotten to the cover story as yet.

I discovered the anti-Blues -- the Crash Test Dummies and I really like them. Fine ya, be a music snob and pooh pooh me for discovering them so late but I think there is such shitty music out there, am taking time to revisit bands I wish i had listened to in the past, anyway, since there is a lull in the quality of music, am doing just that so there! But it's impossible to let the day get you down while listening to them. And I ambled on to Regents Street. Way too crowded but something very satisfying of looking past all the faces until they become part of the background and are just there, the 40 something tired woman leaning against the lam-post smoking, the child stopped on the sidewalk to tie his shoelace outside Hameleighs, the biggest toy store in the world. There was the couple, arm in arm, window shopping. Once in a while, when its this crowded and I feel overwhelmed, i will let them fuzz up and will pay more attention to the buildings and the high-street, rows upon rows of shop windows, all empty.

And the fact that I tend to have soundtracks to a day just helps deconstruct the milling crowd until it is nothing but a painted picture that can’t touch me. So if you ever randomly see me in a crowded street and I seem to be oblivious, it’s because you are painted on. Sorry, it isn’t deliberate, it just is.

Anyway, made my way to Zara and actually found something worth buying, hm, that and ESPRIT were the only places that had anything fun. I did stop by Hamleighs for a few minutes but couldn’t take it any more. Felt over stimulated and overwhelmed by the soap bubbles, people that come up to my middle and women counting off their ward to make sure the flock was still there. I stepped in to the Lego section and felt deprived during my childhood (was obsessed with them as a kid....and still have them around)

Oh and one side of the street was warded off and they had a vintage car exhibition and I am in love with them. One of the cars had a front mounted seat, a car for one and the seat looked classier than the couch I have at home, deep green with the buttons, shiny leather, you could hear the pistons in the engine (heck was a 6 hp engine) and I just wanted to reach over and touch the hand crafted fender and the crank and blow the old-school horn. Anyway it was winding down and one by one the owners started their engines, one of them had a steam engine style smoke stack with black smoke billowing out, you could almost imagine it going down a wagon rutted road, disturbing gentry horses. Anyway, quite a few cars were from around 1900-1910, fucking A! And in gorgeous condition. I loved it.

I decided to throw the crudely drawn map I have and wander around the smaller alleys to get back to Old Compton. Oh and while walking around (god there is so much to blog about just walking around) I was wondering why this sudden spurt in interest to shop for clothes. no, i was the kind who would shop once a year. I could analyze this more than it should but i think its just a desire to change...change what though...it’s like the Leopard who wanted to change his spots I guess…another skin, can buy the vintage rock shirt and become a grungy teenager, can get the very GQ coat and become a yuppie, the corduroy black coat and the intellectual…of course all this is a farce since I am a bit of all of them…dress me up in loafers, jeans with frayed ends, an old old t shirt and a nice new coat, all bits of everyone and then some…

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Was thinking about it and while sex a sealed deal is fun and less work, I do miss everything leading up to it

For instance, you can go pick her up and you lean in to kiss her and get that whiff of perfume (and I always have to find out which one it is…all will fly except Cool Waters). Then there’s sitting in the car, an animated conversation that makes me almost miss the signal, walking arm in arm up the stairs to the restaurant.
It’s always interesting to see what someone picks out from the menu, how they order their food, if they are polite to the waiter.

Course there is the conversation and should she talk about something im passionate about (which is quite a few things I must admit) I tend to get animated and there’s that pause when I am out of breath and smiling and that flash of recognition/connection you feel with the other persona t the moment.

I like the flirtatious banter, nothing overt naturally because that just ruins the fun but hints at all kinds of things, the space between lines more filled with unspoken intent than the lines themselves which seem a front.

There’s the late night walk to get a coffee and lie back and unwind and be; be-ing for once that doesn’t have to have a point nor a deep meaningful conversation but be’ing that begets (don’t hate me for using those words!) comfort.

And inevitably there’s the fingers touching skin, the hesitation & subsequent confidence, testing the waters, the lines blurring, silence that bears down with question marks almost animate and funny to the passerby

The first kiss which is still hesitant and testing but builds up until it explodes.

Am I just romanticizing the experience? Or have flings done that?

Meh, who knows, its just me…writing

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Am obsessed with flash fiction!! I mean come on: "For sale. Baby shoes. Never worn."is just fan-fucking tastic! (Hemingway)

Go read and find some good ones…or point me to where I can read more, am hell bent on devouring them!

3 comments:

fivefeetzero said...

ahem. you are a plagiariser, i say! fancy that, passing my links off as my own. hmmph! :P

hedonistic hobo said...

not just yours, blogolepsy's as well.
well at smith's your were complaining about feelin like a hounddog. o get laid benny, i seriously recommend it. the time magazine is fun but what did you think of the new yorker?

Zaphod said...

To the world at large, I am a horrible person for not giving credit to FF0 for introducing me to flash fiction, of course not as though she invented it but still...there, happy?!

Bobo, ain't a question of getting laid...have had flings where there was not an iota of attraction except the physical kind, but have had enough moments in bed the morning after, smoking, someone next to me wishing it were someone else...in using someone feel used...as atypical male that is to admit...its...emotionally emasculating if that makes sense...