pay me now or pay me escalator

I met a girl on the escalator at Fashion Square today in Nordstrom’s. It was completely by chance. She was walking in front of me toward the escalator, but then she paused and walked in another direction because she got confused about which one was up or down. By the time she figured out that she had been going the right way before, I had passed her up. So when I stepped on, she got on right after me. Out of nowhere she said “Hey your shoes look really well loved” which I guess means they look dirty or used or something. Anyway I was like “Thanks I just got them three days ago.” “Really? Oh I’m sorry.” And you could tell she was thinking that she said the wrong thing. The whole time she was talking to me, she was trying to button the bottom button of her cardigan. So I shot back “having a bit of trouble with that bottom button aren’t you.” “Yeah” she said somewhat nervously. As we got off the escalator I said “See ya,” and we went our separate ways… and I thought about how she said “I’m sorry” like three times on our brief one floor escalator ride…and how we managed to squeeze that much conversation into such a small distance. Maybe time stopped. “And just like that, I’m in love again” I recalled the words of Mark Harmon at the beginning of the movie Summer School. The only thing I was sorry about is that it wasn’t a longer escalator ride and so I didn’t get an opportunity to ask for her name and number. Hell, even with just her first name I could have found her on Facebook or something…unless she has one of those new weirdly spelled versions of common names that seem to be so popular…(like Myshele instead of Michelle etc.) This could have potentially been a new girl to go on a few awkward dates and have it end horribly.

I’ve done the math in my head, and I’m certain that will never see her again.

Guard well this shield. For one day it will guard your life

I attempted to clean out my room today, but about 15 minutes into it…I discovered The Zombies greatest hits cd that Brandie(an infamous ex from several years back who later became a reliable if completely invisible friend) gave me for Christmas in 2004. And so of course I got sidetracked and ended up dancing on my bed in my underwear(and an American Apparel tanktop) for about 45 minutes. I kind of wish I would have gotten it on video, but then again I kind of don’t. Lately my days are filled with such shenanigans. I conduct almost all my important art related business from my cellphone on the roof of the parking garage at Fashion Square Mall. A lot of Scottsdale girls walk by and either smile or scowl at me, but as of yet no one as ever bothered to ask me what the fuck I’m doing there.

Yesterday, I helped Jonathan put up his posters and promote his album. There was one that needed to be placed in a prominent position on Mill Ave, but he was too scared to put it up there because there are usually bike cops everywhere and he was afraid of getting fined…so I decided to run for it and just tape that sucker up, but before I did I quoted Laurence Olivier from Clash of the Titans(1981 version) and said “Fortune is ally to the brave.” It’s a quote that always seems to jump in my mind in critical moments of decision making or hesitation. I’m almost always the designated person who has to go up to a group of girls cold and talk to them, and pave the way for my friends. I will find any excuse to talk to them, and if I do not have one i will simply make something up. Life is too short to care about what some girl thinks of you, and most of the ones you meet turn out to be dumb as bags of hammers anyway. At best they tend to be unimaginitive and uninspiring. Not all of them though, and of course some of them, the most dangerous ones…you do care what they think. And so bravery does not come without wounds and battle scars.

But anyway, back to COTT. I had a Clash of the Titans lunchbox when I was a kid. That movie, like many others from when I was a child, became and archetype for the way I felt relationships and love should be….which of course causes a lot of problems. That’s how I always imagined it’s supposed to be, Perseus and Andromeda. Just solve the riddle, vanquish Calibos(who represents problem exes who make trouble or just scumbag competition), cut off Medusa’s head and defeat the Kraken, and the beautiful princess is yours. If only it could be that easy in real life, where you can just go on a quest and destroy some mythical beasts and walk away with the girl! Somebody lend me a helmet, a sword, a shield! I’m ready for anything, anything except the all too familiar experience of females analyzing every given suitor to death. There is nothing harder than having to shield my heart from the analytical superpowers of those few supremely likable females. I would rather do battle with cyclops’ and swordfight with skeleton kings. But I do what I must, because I am eternally courageous, which is often merely a euphemism for foolish.

Never a lightning rod salesman around when you need one

Saturday afternoon, after grabbing a turkey burger from Johnny Rockets at Fashion Square in Scottsdale, I cruised over to Tempe to distribute promotional materials and stumbled into the gigantic arts and crafts festival on Mill ave…which reminded me of South By Southwest except with less hipsters and more old folks. Still, I love going to these and wish the arts and crafts festival went on every weekend even though that would just cheapen the coin of the realm and less people would go. It always seems like the artifacts one could pick up at these types of events could lead to some cliche
horror movie haunting along the lines of the clock in “Amityville 1992: It’s About Time” Speaking of which, Megan Ward was so hot in that! Whatever happened to her? Many of my most romantic sexual fantasies from the 90’s involved her and that scene where she is seduced by her own reflection. As a further digression, I had a talking PeeWee Herman doll when I was a kid..the one where you pull the string and PeeWee says one of his catch phrases like “I know you are but what am I” etc. And I swear that occasionally that thing would just somehow talk on its own, which scared the shit out of me. It creeped me out so much that I made my mom hide it in the
closet.

The night at Casey Moore’s brought to town a metaphoric carnival of sorts, with various sideshows of drama, suspense, bearded ladies, merry go rounds and mirror mazes(sorry I have been reading Something Wicked this Way Comes and have these things on the brain.) I drank more than usual, so I wasn’t myself. Yes, I’m a lightweight, and two full classes of wine gets me more inebriated than I need to be and sets me off into full on mischief mode. I was trying to protect a super drunk girl who epitomizes female perfection from some really ugly, wack and disgusting guys…although it sort of turned out the girl didn’t want to be protected and was semi-enthusiastic about said dudes….which triggered a sort of “Invasion of The Body Snatchers” moment where I’m Dr. Miles J. Bennell and just discover by way of passionless kiss that someone near and dear has been replaced by a pod. Anyhow, as I’ve mentioned I’m reading “Something Wicked This Way Comes” which, aside from being a great book title, sounds a lot like the type of prediction I’m likely mutter to myself at the start of each day. The last time I saw the film version starring Jason Robards was when it initially played a plethora of times on HBO back in 1984. It terrified me as a small boy, but for some reason I could never resist watching it whenever it came on, usually in the mornings. It affected me deeply..and “the most beautiful woman in the world” as an evil temptress sequences may have contributed to my misogyny later in life(as well as induced some premature stirrings of sexuality down there.) I remembered how frighteningly traumatizing the movie was for me, and so I never saw it again even when I got older…but I think I’m ready now.

I bought a snazzy black denim jacket from American Apparel, which fits right in with my new phase of only wearing combinations of the colors “black and white”

diet pepsi and the champion

Shane and I stayed up all night playing “Kid Chameleon” for Sega Genesis, one of the hardest games of all time. We got to like level 70 after playing several hours, and that was as far as we got. When you’ve lost all your lives and used up a couple of meager continues it just goes back to the title screen. It’s just merciless.

We got to Fashion Square mall when it opened, and we ate at the Mexican food place in the food court. Shane ordered something called “the champion” which turned out to be a gigantic burrito. When he got it he was shocked and a little embarrassed by how truly enormous it was. He didn’t finish it.

We went and saw “The Princess Diaries.” I had just bought a huge thing of diet pepsi from the food court, and they wouldn’t let me take it in the theater. However, I was not to be denied. Shane and I went outside the mall and successfully sneaked into the theater from some random door outside, all just so I could bring my diet pepsi in.

“The Princess Diaries” was actually a pretty good movie, but it made me kind of sad because I lived in Los Angeles when they were filming it. Also I love those cute teen movies, but they always make me think of my own lost youth, wasted time and unfulfilled dreams.