Stories From Small Town USA

In reality I grew up in a city, not a town. But a small one, sometimes so very small.

I've spent 9 days at home, which is the longest I've been here in quite some time. I relaxed a lot, but oddly enough was more tired each day when I was doing nothing, than when I was driving and exploring on my roadtrip. I spent a lot of time at the neighbors' pool, chillin' with a 14 year old who had a totally rockin' bod. I was jealous.

Last Thursday I went out with one of my grade school best friends, Jules. We've known each other since 1st grade and I love her to death, despite the fact that she has a drama-filled life and always seems to get me into trouble. The night started off innocently enough at dinner where we caught up - well mostly I listened to her problems, that took awhile. We then met up with her fck-buddy and his friend, Pat, who was a year ahead of me in high school. Jules had already commented earlier in the night that Pat asks about me a lot. That is weird because #1 I don't think I once said a word to him in high school, #2 I think I've had like 3 conversations with him in our post high school years, and #3 I'm in NY for less than 2 weeks a year. It was obvious that Pat was diggin' me and I totally went with it, I figured he was cute so why not. After our fair share of drinks (I never paid for one, sweet deal when you are unemployed), we made out while Jules and her buddy got it on, and ended up crashing together on the couch. All night and then again in the morning he kept asking if I was going to come visit him at work (he is a bartender). I was non-commital but gave him my number when he asked. He didn't call until Tuesday and I'm not really sure why he called. He did apologize for being an a-hole (which he actually wasn't, he was just really drunk - but really nice drunk) and then asked when I was leaving. He told me to give him a call when I was back in town, which was sorta weird because I was still around for 2 more nights and I know he wasn't working. The problem with Pat is that he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed. More than that, he is so hard to talk to. I swear he can't listen to more than a sentence at a time, or maybe he just isn't used to hanging with girls who can have more than one thought in the same breath. Conversation is even more difficult when we have so little in common. But as I said before he is cute, and a good kisser and he buys me beer... so maybe if he is lucky he'll get a call when I am back in town in September.

Proof of the whole small town theory occurred today. I went to get a haircut at my mom's hairdresser. I was the first appointment of the day and had to wait a few minutes for her to get settled in. I couldn't see from the waiting room, but due to a very distinct voice, I could tell that one of the other hairdressers was someone I went to high school with. She was talking to her client and all of a sudden I realized that they were talking about Jules' ex-husband and his new wife (the one he he proposed to even before the divorce was final). And then I realized that her client was Jules' ex-Mother-in-Law. The cpnversation turn to discuss about Jules, nothing bad persay, but it was a messy divorce and there was a lot of he said, she said. I passed the ex-MIL as she was walking over to pay and we made eye-contact - busted! Granted I'm not going to tell Jules about the conversation, she has enough to deal with, but the ex-MIL doesn't know that. I found out later that my mom has also overhead a conversation about Jules while there. Moral of the story, don't gossip at the hairdresser's, you never know who is listening!

It's time to say goodbye again for a bit. My bags are packed (sorta) for Europe and I leave tomorrow for a wedding downstate and then some Long Island beach time before flying out on Sunday evening. First stop: Dublin! I can't wait for a nice, cold guinness!