This Blog Thing and On the Way Down: The Last Catering

Monday, August 22, 2005

So two comic bloggers (Blog This, Pal and Noetic Concordance) included me on this Comic Blog-a-Check-Out-a-Thing that this comic blogger (Bloggity-Blog-Blog-Blog) started. I’m going to take part but to save space and get to the story (which is hopefully why 99% of you come here) I’m going to comment on each blog in ten words or less.

The Unofficial John Westmoreland Memorial Tribute (Nonblogrollable) – The Brown Bunny without the blowjob.

Size Matters (Blogrollable) – Looking out for the little guys, the innovators. Responsibility!

Fun Ideas (Nonblogrollable) – Can’t correlate title to content or content to comics.

Innocent Bystander (Non Comic-Blogrollable) - Well written, few comics. Why do I even blurb?

The Word on the Street (Nonblogrollable) - Nothing new. I’ve heard the word on the street already.

Websnark (Blogrollable times two) – Unique voice goes down easy like ex-girlfriend.

Polite Dissent (Bloggrollable times two plus a femur) – What a great idea – originality is clutch fellow bloggers.

Return to Comics (Blogrollable with stipulations) – Stick to older comics, less competition for your voice.

Lady, That’s My Skull (Blogrollable and if I ever meet him I’ll buy him a beer) – Entertaining and unique! Like comics should be (buy Elk’s Run)!

Snark Free Waters Blogrollable) – Fun and easy to digest, like Johnny Walker Blue Label.

_______________________________

This whole week is basically one big story that continues a longer story. You can click back if you want to catch-up. Monday has the whole collection of links. Not a great week for newbs, this is more of a pay-off week. This is like starting Watchmen at issue 11 minus Cold War fears and fake alien invasions (SPOILERS!). Feel free to check out the "Best of" to see if you like it here first. Yesterday’s story.

Once the t-shirt thing got off the ground I gave up catering for R’s family. The fact that we broke up had nothing to do with that decision. Really. It didn’t.

Once it became obvious the t-shirt thing wasn’t going to make me rich, however, I became a little more desperate for money. And when R called me up and told me they were short for a catering gig and could use my help, I thought about the tax-free hundred-plus bucks I would make (and how many burritos and 5-gallon jugs of Rossi Red that could buy) I not-so-reluctantly agreed.

After not speaking to R for about two weeks I honestly can’t think of a more awkward situation than hanging with her, her family and her best friend for about ten hours while we prepared food, loaded vans, drove to Connecticut, unloaded vans, cooked food, set-up, served food, cleaned up, loaded a van and finally drove back to Brooklyn. It was ten hours of being near each other in a hot, stressful, manual labor filled environment where it was impossible to avoid each other.

Of course, as soon as I see her the feelings start to kick up. Pretty much instantly. And I start to do that rationalization thing, where in the matter of five minutes I convince myself that she regrets the break-up and there is no possible way she wants to not be together. I mean, we were perfect for each other, right? And she most likely wants to express her regret by having sex in the bathroom because the lowest common denominator for everything in my life is sex.

Almost the first thing I do is try to show her that I’m following through with something and I’m not the shiftless, lazy, stoner fucker that I turned into. I tell her that the Brooklyn T-Shirt Company is going well and we’re selling our shirts like you wouldn’t believe. Hundreds of shirts. She actually asks, “Wow, you actually did it?” which in a way hurt but at the same time – that’s what I was going for, right? I tell her that it’s looking very promising and promise to give her one of each shirt.

And my confidence goes up a little bit more.

The whole thing seemed to be going smoothly. I think there was an aura of desperation about me but it didn’t seem to scare her off. Of course, my judgment was also cloudy, but you don’t take that into consideration when you’re convincing yourself to make a move on your ex-girlfriend several weeks after proving how absolutely clueless you were about her feelings towards you.

So when her best friend came up to me later on in the evening and asked me how I was holding up, I wasn’t quite expecting the reaction I got when I told her I was going to try to “win R back”.

You know that stare you get sometimes? The one that you get from a fish you just pulled out of the water. That big fucking eye that’s saying, “Uh…what’s going on?” That’s the stare R’s friend gave me. For about a minute.

I pleaded my case, said that she’s obviously regretting the break-up and if I do something over the top romantic she’ll fall for my quirkiness all over again.

Now, you know how the fish fights for its last breath? The mouth open as it lies motionless and that eye just continues to stare, pleading, telling you you’re making a mistake? Me neither, I throw the fish back, but I’ve seen it in movies and R’s friend looked exactly like that either way.

She finally spoke. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I had no idea what she was talking about and pressed on for more information. She refused to give any up but kept saying I should forget about her and just move on. Her words didn’t convince me, but the horror in her face sure as fuck did.

The rest of the night was miserable and I was one mean fuck. R’s family wanted me to help out at the sister’s wedding, the one that I was ORIGINALLY a guest at and I told them I would think about it. I blew it off (and got shit for it later).

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