We’re on our third round of daiquiris, the legit kind, when I confide to Sophie this is my first time ever having legit daiquiris and I now know that I fucking love them — that they are delicious and a great delivery mechanism for alcohol.
Before this evening I’ve only ever had the gaudy frozen kind from trying-too-hard beach bars, and they gave me brain freeze instantly and a hangover before too long. The only reason I ordered my first one that night is because when she showed up half an hour or so late because of work stuff I…
We’re halfway through our second drink when during a brief lull in the conversation she takes a biggish sip from her pint, turns toward me and says, “You know what? I almost didn’t come tonight, to be honest. I feel like we can be honest, right? I thought about doing one of those last-minute cancelations where I tell you something came up with work or I’m not feeling well, whatever, something you can’t call me out on for being untrue because you never know, but that you’re also at least a little bit suspicious of being a lie. …
The first time I fell in love it was with a girl named Kristin.
I was in kindergarten, the middle of that early stage when you’re completely unaware of the way people you find attractive can and will make you feel for most of the rest of your life.
I had no idea what the hell was going on at first — why I was feeling the things I was feeling, or what I was even supposed to call these emotions. I was all of 6 years old. I knew nothing at all of love beyond what I’d seen in…
“If we’re done here, I’ll give you back some time.”
“The deliverables you were expecting and refused to negotiate on were quite frankly out of scope, no matter how much I initially believed in the promise of this project.”
“When your mom started to provide unsolicited feedback I felt like there were too many cooks in the kitchen. I should have flagged it sooner, I know.”
“I feel like we ramped up so quickly — without either of us being properly onboarded.”
“I was never able to align with your child-bearing timeline. …
Stay Put, Please
Why the fuck does the hair
on my head feel a need to
reallocate itself instead to
my back and my chest,
my nose and my ass?
Seems pretty unnecessary.
But sometimes things change
when they were more than fine
the way they were.
Preparation Is Key
A lot can not happen
if you’re not yet ready.
Expired Warranty I’ve been left to my own…
Sometimes I think that I’m special.
That I’m unique.
It’s not out of the realm of possibility that deep down I think this all the time.(though I’m not sure I’m ready to admit as much, even to myself).
There’s a not-so-small chance that I’ve thought of myself in this way my entire life, give or take or even, likely, without fail.
Especially when things don’t go right — when I feel like I’ve been wronged or am going through some sort of failure big or small or extreme or, probably most often, borderline unremarkable.
I get to thinking that nobody…
One day you’re young and wild and the next you’re just trying to wrap up work in time to watch Jeopardy.
One day you’re young and wild and the next you’re like, really, really into air fryers.
One day you’re young and wild and the next you’re trying to figure out how TikTok works.
One day you’re young and wild and the next you’re having “early go-to-bed parties.”
One day you’re young and wild and the next you’re going to the chiropractor because you threw out your back while sneezing.
One day you’re young and wild and the next you’re…
We’re halfway through drinks, I don’t know how many (it’s been several), but I realize it’s going to be our last, at the bar anyway, because she touches my arm, kind of strokes it, says, “I don’t usually do this on first dates but do you want to go back to your place? Do you live very far? I’d say we go to mine but my roommate is there and he always seems to make things kinda weird.”
I say yes I do, that I’m walking distance, shocked and pleasantly surprised, without even stopping to think about what state my…
I am Jack’s fading memories of a wildly misspent youth.
I am Jack’s trip to McDonald’s only to find that the McFlurry machine is broken fucking again.
I am Jack’s late and dishonest timesheets.
I am Jack’s progress report from the abyss.
I am Jack’s ongoing series of abject romantic failures.
I am Jack’s acknowledged but untreated and occasionally crippling intimacy issues.
I am Jack’s tendency to immediately panic every single time someone tells him “no worries.”
I am Jack’s hesitance to clearly state that he is not feelin’ it.
I am Jack’s broken bottle that looks like a diamond…
We’re halfway through our second drink when she starts to tell me a story about the time she went on one of those websites where women look for Sugar Daddies and vice-versa — and that she found one in pretty short order who wanted to take her out to a nice dinner at a place in Manhattan that I only knew of from movies.
Even if it were within reason for someone in my tax bracket to go there, I probably wouldn’t have anyway. I’m more the kind of person who, while extremely pretentious, is also tacky and low class…