Keep My Words

I was at the bar by my house the other night, and I met a boy named Matt.  We were having a lovely conversation, and then…

“I have to leave.  I’m going to my friend Mike’s house for dinner,” I said.

“Why don’t you ditch your friend Mike and come to my apartment and make out with me?” Matt suggested.

“Does that really work on girls?  I just met you an hour ago.  I don’t make out with boys that I just met an hour ago,” I replied.

He looked shocked.  “Really?  You’re a prude.  I’ve given head to people I just met an hour ago.”

“Oh, well that’s really nice of you.  I don’t consider myself a prude.  But I’m still not going home with you,” I told him.

“You’re so cute,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Last night I went to see Evil Dead 2 at McCarren Park.  The band was playing before the movie and I was on my second plastic cup of wine (poured from a 2-liter Sprite bottle) when my phone rang.  It was Allison  “Is that your blog?  Devin says that’s your blog.  Did you quit your job???”

I suppose it’s more appropriate to say that I resigned.  Mike says “quit” implies that I am not working from this point forward.  I gave a month’s notice.  Four more weeks of corporate slavery.

In other news, I am on the road to casting all of my care away.  Not my responsibility, just my care.

care (noun) – a state of mind in which one is troubled; worry, anxiety, or concern; grief; suffering; sorrow

It’s easier said than done.  Stifling my ability to be carefree are the thoughts that plague my mind after last Friday.  It’s not just how you always think of better things to say after the fact.  It’s the plans that you made that you realize aren’t going to happen now.  It’s the inside jokes.  It’s the tangible reminders that you want to throw away or hide, but you don’t.  And it’s thinking that the other side of the equation doesn’t care about any of it.

care (verb) – to feel concern about

These kids were outside of Bar Matchless Sunday after the Pool Party.  Future heart-breakers: