hey just wanted to let you know that you're very interesting! I stumbled
along your website and have been reading your journals everytime i get a
chance.Quite additive i must say. You make me laugh with your sarcasim its
great. Keep up the good work your very craetive in what you do. keep it up
so i can have something to read when i have down time at work. I counting
on you!
one of your faithful readers, Akeba
Ho Ho Ho's
12.25.4
Screw this holiday...for the most part.
Last night Tim invited me to a party. He described it as being a small get-together where we were going to play "beer-pong." Now...I can't exactly say that the promise of "beer-pong" was much of an incentive to me, but I was in need of some mindless social interaction, so I went. When I arrived I found things to be much different than I had expected.
This "party" ended up being a basement filled with his girlfriend's family and "friends-of-the-family." There were happy couples everywhere, with their happy little sons and daughters. People were in little circles talking about their new cars or their good grades, and I was sitting in the corner drinking my vodka and orange soda. I then ended up playing a holiday game with everyone. One of the "family friends" had purchased 28 random gifts. She gave one to each attendee and we all sat in a circle. She then read a little story, and every time she said the words "right" or "left," we were to pass our gifts in the specified direction. When the story was over, we all got to open and keep our presents. I got a box of chocolates, but I ended up trading them for a "magic washcloth."
I hadn't wrapped a single goddamn thing this year, and this woman had wrapped 28 separate presents for a party game. The whole thing just depressed me, and all I could think about was the fact that when I woke up the next morning I was not going to be opening presents with my adoring fiancée. I was not going to have anyone to cuddle with while watching "A Christmas Story." I wasn't even going to get a fucking call from her.
I felt bad about it, but I made my leave early. Tim had meant well in inviting me. He didn't want to see me alone on Christmas, and that's nice...I just think it was a little too soon for this level of holiday cheer. When I got home, I made it to the back room before lying on the ground and crying.
This morning was much less eventful. I watched my "Christmas Story." I made a crappy little movie. It wasn't until Toni stopped by and got me drunk that I remembered where true Christmas spirit comes from:
Strippers.
We got in the car and headed down to Centerfolds. Toni paid for everything. There are reasons I love that girl. She knows just how to make a guy's day.
The place was all Christmas-ed up. All the mirrored walls were decorated with pictures of Santa and bastardized holiday slogans. I couldn't seem to find a "Merry XXX-Mas" anywhere, but one wall did say "Ho Ho Ho's."
I forgave the possessive apostrophe in what was clearly meant to be a plural word, because I'm guessing that anyone who makes their living writing on the inner walls of strip clubs, might have missed an English class or two.
One of the strippers was exceptionally beautiful, and was quite good at what she does. She used a lot of slow, sensual movements, as opposed to the wild gyrations of your usual stripper. At one point, as she was straddling me, she moved her face close to mine and kissed me on the cheek.
Alright, look...I understand that what a stripper does during her workday/work-night has nothing to do with anything. She's obviously there to make money, and the seduction factor helps her do that. For some reason, though, I always imagine in my mind the way the scene could unfold...
During her set, she would show a clear preference to me, which would make all the rowdy men on the other side of the stage a bit upset. When she was done dancing, she'd come sit down next to me. I'd buy her a bottle of water to cool down with, and she would take a few drags off of my cigarette. Afterwards, we'd go out for coffee. At some point, the conversation would lull just enough for me to lean in to kiss her. Then we'd come back to my place and make passionate love. As things got serious, she'd give up stripping to pursue a career in art. Then one day, somewhere along the line, we'd end up passing presents to each other at some "friends-and-family" Christmas party. I know that it would never happen, but for some reason I've always considered that scenario to be the perfect way to fall in love.
If only love really were that romantic...
