Sunday, July 03, 2005
So I finally got my cd today, and the first song on it makes me want to kill myself, not in a bad way, in a good "I exaggerate all the fucking time" way.
Many of you are probably wondering what that means, so here's a "Brief History of Time [which I've Spent Crushing on the Most Interesting Girl in Iowa]," or "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Iced Cafe Lattes."
There is a restaurant/coffee shop here in Ames that I've spoken of before, where all the waitresses are the cutest girls in a 39 mile radius, but one of them stands out the most. Not only because she's easily the most attractive, but she's also the wittiest, most brilliant, and overall most interesting of all the baristas. She also has her own radio show where she plays some of the best music I've ever heard. I generally use it as a barometer for the music I should be listening to, if for no other reason than to stay ahead of the pop music scene.
In any event, whenever I would come in, we would discuss music for a while, throwing band names back and forth, basically telling the other what to listen to for the current week.
Well, one time I mentioned The Stone Roses (who were easily about 10 years ahead of what pop rock would become), and she didn't know who they were. I totally flipped out and sliced my throat. After recovering a few seconds later, I told her she had to check them out, because anyone who wants to have any sort of opinion about the modern state of music needs to have at least a working knowledge of The Stone Roses.
I told her I would make her a cd, which I did. She said if I actually did that, she would make me a mix cd of bands she was listening to. You know, a total "High Fidelity" way of getting to know one another. How fitting.
After waiting weeks, I never got my cd. Fine, I figure, she'll make it sometime, there's no rush. It's just another thing that gives me an excuse to talk to her.
Well, she took a five day trip to NYC about two weeks ago, and that was enough to convince her to move there for the rest of her life. She seems like a total seat-of-her-fashionable-pants type of girl, so I can honestly say that I'm not terribly surprised, but it was kind of sudden. After finding out about the move, we agreed on a deadline for the cd -- the last day she would be working, which was today.
My plan was to slowly get to know her until I could work up the courage to ask her out somewhere (it's always impossible for me to do so with girls I actually really like, it's always so much easier with the ones I downright despise). Naturally, the move put the kibosh on that. So I took what I could get; which, in the end, was a cd whose first song begins with the lines "I don't like your company, I'm so sick of you. I don't want to be your friend no more, leave me alone. How could I be so stupid to have faith in you?" (Naturally, you see why I wanted to pluck my eyes out with a rusty spoon.) As I'm listening right now, I'm thinking the cd could have some hidden message, or maybe I'm just looking for things that aren't there, or maybe most of the music she likes has a constant theme.
I should have probably asked her if she wanted to hang out like 19 different times, but as the brie-eating surrender-monkeys say, c'est la vie. I never had the cojones to do anything about it. (Spanish and French in one paragraph!)
The final conversation I had with her went something like this (basically sealing the deal that probably never had a chance anyway):
Me: Hey, I just wanted to be the 912th person to wish you good luck in New York.
Her: Thanks! I really hope you like the cd.
Me: I'm sure I will. I know that New York is the perfect city for someone like you. You'll love it.
Her: I totally hope so. Have a good rest of your life, I guess.
Now, that probably comes off a lot colder in text than it actually was in real life, but whatever. You'll have to make due and imagine her smiling when she said that last line. I know I'll never forget what that looked like.
My pocketbook probably really benefits from this though. Now I don't have to go in every morning at 10am and order an Iced Single Tall Cafe Latte To Go every morning just to catch a conversation with the DJ for "Take One To Two, Twice Daily."
Moving on, the "new" album by Beck totally kicks my ass, and everyone needs to listen to it. Unless I've totally misinterpreted the new single "Girl" (which is entirely possible, Beck is weird), I'm pretty sure it's about someone like the waitress who took order #626124. At least, that's what it does for me.
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