Little girl, Big City

5:45pm 11.30.11

Scene: An office in downtown Los Angeles

A ping came from the past.

“Little girl big city.”

“That’s me.  There’s a blog to go with it as well.  How are you?”

He’d seen the pictures I’d posted on Facebook with the dress I’d bought while out apartment searching.  It had been a few minutes since I’d talked to Base.  He and I went out once back in ’09 but nothing ended up coming of it beyond some very great conversations.  We have continued to keep in touch throughout the years regardless.

“Kind of sexy if I must say.  I’m good.  How are you doing?  Did you ever work out your roommate situation?  You look thin.  Did you lose weight Stavros?  You look in shape.  You’ve still got some curves.  That’s a good thing.”

It continued into business and further flattery.

“You dabbled in modeling right?  I’ll shoot you.  I’ll hire you as my muse!”

“What a coincidence! The little girl in the big city also doubles as a Muse for Hire.”

Somewhere there was confusion when I mentioned that I was looking for an apartment.

“What about this roommate situation?  I thought you just moved in with him.”

I spaced.  I didn’t remember telling him about it, although I very well likely posted things alluding to that on various social mediums.  I didn’t gather from the way he’d reacted that he had read the blog before I’d told him about it.

“I thought you were involved in a steamy relationship with your roommate as of last week.”

“Yes that’s still ongoing..ish”

“Oh Stavros.  How many hearts have you broken this year alone?

“He’s entry one on the blog.  I’ve lost count?”

“So what’s the problem? Don’t y’all live together?”

And then the inevitable story unfolded.  Some of it has been written here.  Some if it hasn’t yet.

“He doesn’t live in the real world.  His grandmother died.  He has an inheritance.  He hasn’t really ever had a job. Just interns.  He’s 27.  Going on 13.  He’s supposed to be writing a western right now.  He was going to school to work in city planning.  Didn’t get into grad school.  He doesn’t want to sit in a desk for 15 years to do what he would not be  for sure able to do if he went to grad school.  He’s thinking about moving to New Orleans. A place he has set in his mind that he can ‘forget about his problems’.”

“He’s a dreamer.”

“Yeah. So am I.  Why do you think I want to help him?”

12:20pm 1.5.12

Scene: an office building in downtown Los Angeles

The No Pants Train Ride was coming up and the suited gent had not given me back my dad’s shirt.  You can kind of gather some things about the details here.  A night of passion in me wearing one of my very corporate dad’s old hand me downs that never made it to Goodwill and it… just sort of stayed in his room.

“Get that back to me please.  I wouldn’t care if it wasn’t my dad’s in the first place.”

“I promise I will.”

Weeks passed.  Conversations had.  The shirt never made a cameo.

The time had come.

“Hey I really need to get that.  It’s been weeks.  You said you were going to get it cleaned and get it to me even when I was still there.  I think you’ve had more than enough time.”

“I can do that.  When did you want to come by?”

“Actually I want you to bring it to my work.  It’s not far and I know you’re not working anyway..”

“Sure I can do that.  I can get it to you today.”

“When?”

“I’ll leave in about five minutes.  What are your cross streets again?  Grand and [redacted]?”

“No.  Grand and [redacted].”

It then got busy here.  I was working on a project and manually generating invoices.  It was something I hadn’t had to do here previously.

“Sorry.  I’m going to need a minute.  It got busy at work.”

“Well I can come by after I have lunch with my dad if that works too.”

I don’t trust him not to flake.  He’s a habitual flaker.  And again, I don’t trust him.  He’s had plenty of time.  I wanted to wear that shirt on Sunday.  I needed to get it washed still.  It would take all of five minutes to get things done.

I told my boss.

“I need a few minutes.  I have someone dropping something off.  I can come right back.  Is that ok?”

“No problem.”

I went downstairs to the lobby and waited.  I don’t like this at all.  I was nervous that he would try and pull some cute move on me as if things hadn’t happened, and, had he been genuine it might have been different.  I just didn’t need the gloss over it.  I had made my decision.

“I’m pulling up to the side now.  I see you!”

Deep breath Jen.  It’ll all be over in five minutes.

8pm 12.5.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

Looking back, I’m not sure how we got here but there we were.  It was one thing after another.  A domino of passion followed by pain followed by more passion.  Rinse and repeat.

The suited gent was on a destructive tangent.  He kept countering his actions.  One minute he was giving me the heavy about getting flowers from a paramour I dated years ago, the next minute he was telling me he wasn’t ready to be involved in a relationship.

“Why can’t you just be honest with me?  Are you just that incapable of doing that for anyone including yourself?”

“I’ve been more honest with you than any of them.” he told me.

“Why?”

“Because you see the man behind the curtain.”

I think about the morning I saw him in the windowpane.  He was completely right.

You could cut the silence like a thick fog.  He walked upstairs to his room.  I picked up my keys and grabbed my purse.  I don’t know why he holds back so much.  I don’t know why I do either.  But he’s right.  I’m right.  And maybe that’s why I was attracted to him in the first place.

From one magician to another- it’s difficult living in both worlds magical and real sometimes.

10pm 11.25.11

Scene:  Not a jazz club, Little Tokyo

A friend of mine from my last webhosting company was playing a show.  I had been wanting to support him but things had been very hectic over the past year.  I decided that night that it was finally the due date and hopped the bus out towards Little Tokyo.

I arrived to see several friends that I hadn’t seen in months.  Time gets away with you faster than you’d think.  There were so many smiling familiar faces.  I felt bad I hadn’t come sooner.

My friend and I headed up to the bar to get our drinks as the opening acts started to play.

A punk rock version of Power Rangers played by a girl with blue hair?

“This is awesome.” the friend said.

And act after act came on.  I was not entirely impressed.  The bar’s name made me believe that perhaps there would be jazz.  It felt as far from it as one could imagine.

I told the tale of our serendipitous couch surfing affair to my friend.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a sign that screamed out at me.

“The Cocaine Loves You!”

But you weren’t there.  At least, not physically this time.  The irony of it all, was that was very likely where you were that night- off doing coke with your friends up in the valley as you had been doing several days out of the week since I’d arrived on that couch.

“I should know better.” I said as I continued to drink.

My friend smiled and just shook his head.

Why don’t I listen to my friends more often?

7:30pm 11.16.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

“I know what you two did.  I heard it.  I don’t appreciate it happening.  I told you I didn’t want it happening when I was home.”

I was a doe in headlights.  Yes, we had done the deed but it was when we specifically thought she had been gone.  We felt bad about it.  We felt great about it.  He and I were both in the moment.  It caught us and swept us away.  I couldn’t help but think that whatever it was was a serendipitous intersection to say the least.  What if this was the last chance I had before he moved to New Orleans?  What if I was never going to see him again?

I apologized emphatically to her and texted the suited gent.

“Shit.  She just called me.”

“I know.  You and I are stopping all together.”

My heart sank.  I didn’t want to be in the space.  I had to go home.  To the one place in Los Angeles that rang home the most- with my friends at the Brewery.

I called a friend and left a message.  He was at Mindshare.

“The house of cards fell out from under her yet again and Alice fell with it.  But it was comforting and scary at the same time.  Because this is the all too familiar world that she knew.”

Perhaps we really should have stopped everything that night.  Perhaps it was an omen amongst omens…

Why didn’t I listen?

11:25 pm 11.21.11

Scene:  a dive bar with an orange neon sign, downtown Los Angeles

It was the night of the extra couch surfers.  The suited gent and I had escaped into the bar that has the oldest liquor license in the city.  Little did my fancy cohort and I know at the time but this particular spot is owned by the same group that also owns our favorite fancy establishment in the city.

“Ask me anything you want.” he said as he bitched about his drink.

“I’m too sober for this conversation.”

“I’m not.  Ask me.  This doesn’t happen very often.  Take it.”

“I don’t think this is a good time to have this talk.  We’ve only known each other a little more than a week.”

“Ask me.  I want to know what’s going on in your head.”

The text came in from the woman who was letting us both couch surf.  We had originally made plans to enjoy the weekend together.  She was going to be out of town.  Now we were stuck sleeping together.

In between the hand holding and the kisses, he started to counter his actions with words completely in the opposite direction.

“You shouldn’t like me. ”

“Oh god really?  You’re drunk.”

“No you really shouldn’t.  I’m not kidding.”

“Why?”

“I’m emotionally unavailable.  I’ll cheat on you.  I’ll lie to you.  It’s how I am.”

“And what if that in itself is a lie?”

“It’s not.  You deserve better.  I’m telling you.”

He held me close and kissed me again.

Like the illusion that encompassed him- both things were true and lies at the same time.

10:11am 12.3.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

It had been some nice conversation.  Decisions and things in the future.  A luxury shared space in South Park or my own place in the historic core of Los Angeles, walking distance from work.

“There’s a lot over there.  I never go over there because I don’t want to pay for parking.  It’s more convenient.  You wouldn’t have to worry about food.  There’s grocerry stores and restaurants.  Lowry’s is over there.”

“The seasoned salt?”

“Yes but it’s a restaurant.  They became famous here in LA.  Best prime rib in the city.”

“Hmm I’ve never been.  Maybe you’ll visit me and we’ll go?”

“Yeah.  It’s something to think about.  I’m going to take a shower now though.”

He got up and I stretched my arms out for a hug.  It was stupid and cheesy but there it was.”

He pointed to his room where one of his friends was napping and joined his fingers.  He pointed to me and then separated them again.  He drops everything for her.  Is she really his best friend or is she more?

“Derby tonight?”

“Maybe.”

We’d been planning it for weeks.  I’d already bought his ticket.  I washed my hands of it.

“Forget it.”

I’m not going to be anyone’s “maybe”.

4:25pm 11.12.11

Scene: outside a loft building in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

It was a rushed turn of events.  My friend that I had been staying with previously at the Brewery informed me that the management was on his case about more than just the leaseholders being there.  I had to find another spot temporarily and it was to be immediate.

I’d talked to this woman on the phone the night prior and a bit that morning.  A friend of a friend was extending the favor.  One month to find that new spot.

I can do this, I know I can.

She couldn’t get there to meet me before the game.

“My friend will be there.  He’s staying with me too.  He just graduated.  He’s also staying there temporarily.  But don’t worry, you will like him I’m sure.  Here’s his number.  Call him and he will show you the space.”

The first thought in my head was “Oh great.  He’s going to be an irresponsible kid.”

I shrugged it off.  My friend Steven and I got in the car and headed over.

Admittedly, I had also thought in the back of my head “I hope that he’s cute.”  But the logical me told myself “I really hope that he’s not cute.”

The lofts were nestled next to one of my favorite galleries downtown- The Hive.  It was walking distance from work.

I dialed this boy.

“Be right down.”

Steven and I stood outside the checkered hallway waiting for the elevator to open.  I held my breath as the old black door opened.  Out walked the most adorable man I had ever seen dressed in a black tie, black slacks, white dress shirt and dark shoes.

“Hi, I’m Dan.” he said and shook my hand.

As he turned to unlock the elevator, I looked over at Steven.  I didn’t have to say anything.  He and I both knew.

I took another breath before he turned back around.

“Hi.  I’m Jen.  Nice to meet to you.”

1:45pm 11.27.11

Scene: a vintage dress and accessory shop, downtown Los Angeles

I’d walked past it several times but hadn’t walked in yet.  My pocketbook was in savings mode.  I needed to save for that new place I had yet to find and call home.

Her name was Billie.  She had been collecting vintage pieces for many years.  Her son was three.  She was dressed to match this gorgeous little shop of hers.

I waded through gorgeous piece after gorgeous piece.  I’d love to tell everyone about her little shop, but at the same time, finding it was like finding that hidden treasure at the bottom of the cereal box.

I nearly left that day without buying anything until I saw it draped on a rack with several other colorful silk dresses.  I knew immediately I was going to buy it.

I found a pair of hanging earrings and told her that I was definately buying them.

We chatted about her shop.  About how much my grandmother has spoiled me by giving me so many amazing pieces that she’d worn in her younger days.  And, of course, we chatted about things with that certain suited gentleman.

“We’re couch surfers in the same place right now.  It’s a strange happenstance.”

“How long have you two been dating?”

“Not long.  We goof and say that we are not going to date.  But we both know that we are. This dress will help.  We both enjoy going to fancy places.  It’s a good compliment to what we already enjoy.”

“Are you in love?”

Things froze for a moment.  That was ridiculous.  Was I gushing that much?  That was craziness.  I just laughed.

“No I’m not in love but I’m having a good time.”

9:21pm 11.18.11

Scene: a loft in Gallery Row, downtown Los Angeles

I don’t want him to move away.

“Isn’t it weird how naturally comfortable we all are together?” she asked.

I think back to not quite a week ago.  To the debut of the most adorable man I’d ever laid eyes on.  These would be the honeymoon days.  The days that I’d later look back on and glow thinking about.

Tonight as he was getting ready to go out with his friends, he made a point to stop and tell me goodbye, but slipped.

“I almost fell.  I almost fell for you!”  he said with a laugh.  And in my mind I wondered if something else slipped in that moment.

Perhaps it was nothing.

Perhaps it was something.

Perhaps it was both in that same moment.

I held his hand tight and kissed it.

“Have fun tonight.”

I don’t want him to move away.