Today I took a break from my busy schedule of writing (not-writing) to meet my fellow author/blogger, CSW of OpenLetters for lunch. We started comparing hits and Facebook shares and Tumblr followers and trying to figure out how the hell to read the WordPress stats page. Our conversations are now almost a competitive sport wherein we bat around ideas and battle to deliver witty remarks on the zeitgeist, following each of which we say something like, “I’m taking that one” or “You gonna write about that?”
Today we struck upon a number of ideas we thought were brilliant. Alas, turns out, we are both so starved for conversation that – like a couple of drunks or druggies – what seems like genius in the middle of our verbal highs turns out to be – well, not. For instance, just a few hours ago the notion of writing a blog concerning what Buddha would say about Justin Bieber‘s dick seemed really hilarious. Yeah. It’s not. But, the fact that having mentioned it means I can now count on search engines locating “justin bieber dick” in this entry and getting me better hit numbers than CSW is a win.
Midway through our Starbucks-ing, CSW asked me what I thought was going on with two guys at a nearby table. Occupational hazard. You can’t see anyone or anything without making up a story. I’d already back-storied them ten minutes earlier.
Guy in pink-checked shirt has a thing for guy in lavender shirt. Guy in lavender shirt is straight-identified and pretending not to know that pink-checks has a thing, but, secretly, he needs and enjoys the affirmation because, right now, he has no steady female companionship having recently broken up with yet another woman who just doesn’t connect with him. He’s just looking for a woman who “gets him” like his pink-checked bro does. Eventually, they will share a drunken make-out/sex night for which lavender shirt will blame pink-checks, and accuse him of having taken advantage of him. In fact, the opposite will be true. Lavender, knowing full well how pink-check feels, has kept him around and on back-up for when he needed ego boost and finally, to be touched.
That was my take. CSW thought they were real-estate brokers talking a deal. Hmm. Later, pink-check and lavender traded some books, after which pink-check made a hasty exit. I made my way to the bathroom to see what lavender was left reading. The first, a Wayne Dyer book; “Wishes Fulfilled: The Art of Manifesting.” Okay then. And the second book, the one he was really reading, couldn’t see the title, but the chapter he was on with page dog-eared by – I can only assume – pink-check, was titled “A Hard Goodbye.”
Real estate my ass. So to speak. We could both be wrong. Maybe they were talking about their blogs. Maybe they were wondering who CSW and I were and our backstory?
Could be. Fine with me. Just blur our faces in the picture. And I sure as shit wasn’t carrying around a Wayne Dyer book. Right now, my constant backpack companion is Paul Bowles “The Delicate Prey & Other Stories.” make a story out of that, my friend. And . . .Go.