Calvero Tivoli Rides Again

Ah here I am walking that fine line between fucking up royally and eking out the most improbable of victories without causing all that much damage.

Anyone want to take bets on how that'll turn out?

Last night I worked late. When I finally stopped long enough to take a piss I found myself staring at a stranger in the mirror. My hair has grown longer than it has been in years and was sticking up at all odd angles from running my hands through it. My eyes were cold and tired, my cheeks were sunken and my jaw slightly harder than I remember it being. I had a severe 5 o'clock shadow. I looked old. I looked hard. I looked like someone you wouldn't want to run into in a dark alley. I laughed.

I shot home and cleaned up a little then headed out for a drink with an "old friend". It's funny how that can turn the tide of a long day sometimes. I find that I rely entirely too much on other people for my survival. They act as a tether to the real world, they ground me when my mind begins to drift. They make me feel...human. Sometimes it's as simple as calling my little brother or sister, or talking to one of the church kids on the computer. Sometimes it's hanging out with my friends and other times it's paying a quick visit to my "old friend". It's an awkward cocktail of misery, coincidence, and happenstance that keeps me going sometimes. And other times it's just good people.

So there I am hanging out in this bar, chatting a little drinking a lot. Just trying to unwind the complicated tangle that is my thoughts. She's new at this place, she doesn't know anyone but her one friend. I'm not new at this place. I know a lot of people. Aw-k-ward. I spend a few minutes going, "Remember that story? Right there. Remember that story? Right there. Remember that story? Right there." To her credit she at least pretends to remember every story. She humors me. I pay well.

So we head upstairs, and we're sitting in the cigar lounge. And the bartender stops over to say hello. She already knows what I'm drinking without me having to tell her and I quickly realize it's going to be one of those nights. A few minutes later the bartender is explaining something about the club and stops midsentence and says to me, "I don't have to tell you all this, you know your way around here." My old friend (who the bartender doesn't know, and doesn't know I know) starts cracking up and the bartender quickly realizes what she's just said and rapidly tries to backpedal but is now so flustered she doesn't know what to say. My old friend doesn't miss a beat and says something to the bartender along the lines of, "Don't worry. I already know." I sit there shaking my head in disbelief and chuckling quietly to myself. It was definitely going to be that kind of night.

A few hours later we've talked about horror movies, Harry Potter, museums, dining out in New York City, and the rather profound bizareness that is my life. It was a good time. It helped me get right when I was dangerously close to going wrong. It also pushed the amount of money I've spent in the last three days from a "shitload" to a "fuckton" and means that I'll probably have to start watching what I spend at some point in the next few weeks. But like my old pal Bernstein said it's no trick to make a lot of money...if what you want to do is make a lot of money. So no worries.

I got home, ate some taquitos (boy was that a mistake in about seven different ways), watched Chuck. And called it a night. A little older, a little more tired, a little broker. But really none the worse for the wear.

Not bad for a Monday. Not bad at all.