Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters
socratic

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Matt demands that this be posted under protest. He says that he's been a perfect angel of restraint

This is just a factual account of what happened, devoid of entertaining anecdotes or much analysis. I might post such later but I might not. Some stories are better off saved.

We were all tired Sunday and it passed in something of a grey haze. We visited Grant's Tomb, Riverside Church, and did some walking Riverside Park where we saw such attractions as the Dinosaur Playground and the Hudson river. We had plans to go downtown and hang but our Arizonian decided to split because we weren't good enough company, and Mattie was so depressed at this turn of events that it was all he could do to watch half an hour of porn and crawl into bed. Alone.

It's difficult to try and show people New York City on 2.5 hours of sleep, but I thought I did an okay job of Morningside Heights and the reason that we didn't get a chance to see more is that we started out late and we were all dragging our asses. Leigh was an interesting person, a bit flakey and obsessed with substance abuse but not completely out of it. She did totally change the nature of the interaction, though, since Matt and I were basically unable to have a serious conversation around her. She wasn't interested and had a tendency to space out, so much so that she occasionally forgot how to walk. That's not a good thing. She did show us her underwear and let Matt grope her a little aboard a Triceratops, which are two things that would have been a whole lot more awkward if it had just been us two guys. She also had ID for the buying of beers, which I didn't drink because I don't drink alcohol, but which Matt happily imbibed.

As for other random memorable moments throughout the day, there were more than a few. I tried to pick up a 15 month old toddler but got cockblocked by her mother, who proceeded to agree with us that Matt's Salmon shirt and red red socks would make him very successful at making friends in Greenwich village. Leigh couldn't figure out who was buried in Grant's tomb. Perhaps some day I will have the ability to write up the rest of the funny little incidents to Matt's satisfaction, but for now he's standing over my shoulder and critiquing every word I write while he consumes expired yogurt, and I don't want to dissapoint that bearded face. Of course he forgot that he told me he'd forget the events of the day, and that I should write them up as a sort of mnemonic device, but I really should have seen that coming.

We ate in Riverside park at the cafe, Matt made some rotten eggplant and some tasty but calorie filled pasta. Leigh abandoned us for her complete asshole friend who not only didn't pick her up to begin with but made her travel alone on the Subway and walk through the rain to meet him. It wasn't a big deal since things were probably better without her but it still stung poor Matt, as rejection is rejection.

Monday was pretty damned good. We got a fairly late start because we were still burned out from the late night on Saturday but once we got rolling we got a decent amount accomplished. We went up to the Met through Central Park (first we had a stop at the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine), and though it was closed it was a nice walk. Then we headed across to the American Museum of Natural History and paid $28 to get in for Student price. We had a really good time there, learned a lot, saw the fantastic frog exhibit that is small but very much worth it (it includes video of a giant African Goliath Bullfrog consuming a rat whole. Whoa.) and let George Plimpton tell us a lot of interesting facts about Gold. There was an unkempt man near the Star of India who was telling the story of Murph the Surf. Matt loved the Blue Whale and the exhibit showing a Sperm Whale and a Giant Squid going at it in the real fight of the century. We had to rush through the Dinosaur hall but that was okay, since Matt hates reptiles almost as much as he hates bubble gum.

After that we galavanted off to a pizza parlor where Mattie "Rube" Hickstein suggested we order a whole pie rather than by the slice. He couldn't have stood out more if he'd been wearing overalls unbuttoned on one shoulder and sucking on a bit of hay. When the order was placed the guy had to stifle the urge to ask if we wouldn't be more comfortable with a nice piece of corn pone. Eventually we managed to leave with our pie, but not our dignity, and headed down to Bryant park. On the way some Jesus lovers gave us a little bit of water, so I will stop saying that he never did nothing for me. God gave me 8 ounces of liquid refreshment. Thanks lord.

It turned out that the Bryant Park grass was closed on account of rain and pussytude by the parks department. We sat around there for an hour while Matt complained bitterly about the lack of hot women. We got to watch a man we dubbed "Mr. Skeezy" hit on various (or possibly just one) Asian women with a very tired schtick that worked surprisingly well. He was dressed like a bum who all the other bums picked on because of his poor fashion sense and had hair that was less appealing than brillo would have been. After about an hour we went over to my friend Aaron's house and hypocritically demanded his attention and entrance into his abode. I admitted at the time that what I was doing is something I probably wouldn't have tolerated if it were done to me, but I gave him the option of sending us away. He didn't. We all hung out for awhile and watched the movie from off on the side. It was Dial M for Murder and it was okay. We thought it had been colored after the fact but that wasn't so. Just a bad job of colorization. Not Hitchcock's best film, but Grace Kelly is profoundly gorgeous.

After that we got burritos and walked down to Washington Square park where we hung out and chatted about the chances of catching my old social studies teacher sucking a transexual's cock outside of a nightclub. We also saw a drug dealer who offered us Bud, Meth, and Coke. I declined but asked if he had a pepsi. I think I'm going to stop talking back to drug dealers. Street preachers? Sure. Drug dealers, not so much. We got home at 2 and caught some Zzs.

Today was a lesser day. It was the day where Matt's long lost love from the internet was flying in and we were to meet her at the airport. We tried to get Shakespear in the Park tickets but they were sold out when we arrived. We took the M60 up to meet her and got there after her plane. She was perky. I sat apart from them on the busride back and read about Thadeus "Badius" Stevens. They chatted for the hour it took to get back to my house. Once we got off the bus, things did not go so well. I started interacting with them to avoid being rude, and soon the conversation nosedived. First she said that we were much alike, which was really rough on Matt. Gentlemen, if there's a girl you like, you really don't want her to be comparing you to me. I repulse women, and not just physically. Every fiber and morsel of my being. It's the kiss of death, and Matt got it smack on the lips before he ever had a chance. They had a couple beers, we chatted, I offended her by making the correct observation that Atlanta is located in the deep south. We went walking, I was basically the only one talking, she was picky about her drinks, she made a phone call during the time together, which was another blow to Matt's fragile ego, and we saw a badly disfigured baby on our way back to my house, who I waved at.

The thing is, I was really dominating the conversation at this point. riffing off in funny but somewhat confusing monologues. I am regaining some of my intellectual sharpness, and I was on, but she was tired and offended and though she laughed as the waves of punchlines hit, she complained latter that I wouldn't shut up. I feel bad for sabotaging Matt, but I was trying to make up for the fact that he was tired and sulking. It was a bad scene. After she left he felt really bad and decided to leave tonight rather than tomorrow. I saw him down tot he bus station and on to a bus, where he presumably remains to this day (at least until 2:00) I came home and had too much Chinese food. Encounter over.

I feel bad about how this week went for Matt. We had a lot of fun, but he suffered disapointments and in the end he was pretty depressed. Of course women are to blame, or at least his feelings towards them. A large inspiration behind the trip was his breaking up for the 80th time with his cancerous for him current ex and probably future girlfriend. Leigh left him in the lurch and then he pinned too much on the girl from Atlanta. He had all sorts of plans that he never discussed with her, and expectations that did not come to fruition. I don't blame her for how she acted, she wasn't aware of how much he had riding on her and the potential red-hot fuckfest that might develop if everything went perfectly right. It was really rough on him, though, and watching him deflate like a punctured balloon was not pleasant. They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all, but in situations like this it's tough to see that. Expectations are a bitch. I knew he was being unrealistic, and I wasn't that surprised to see very little chemistry between them (not that I'm an expert observer, but they definitely did not seem to have sparks) but it's still a tough blow.

I did what I could to cheer him up a bit, but frankly there wasn't anything I could say. He was hoping for a picante encounter and he got a mild meeting. That takes time to recover from.
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