Could I ask her to marry me? Of course I could– I’m sure of it. I don’t know how sober I would have to be. But still, should I even be asking that question? Maybe there’s a better one, like “Why are we together?” or “What do you like about me?” or “Have you put on weight?”
Wait, sorry. Let me back up for a second; I think we’re really getting somewhere with this.
Convincing her to stay is out of the question; Maddie’s always been a free spirit and I’m not down for messing with free spirits. I don’t have anything clever to say about that because I really don’t want to get hurt. Of course, I want her to stay but I also want to be buried alive on Easter Island when I’m 37. Basically: I’ve learned that if I want something then it’s probably not good for me.
“Just tell her you don’t want her to leave,” Drew was telling me at the T-Club, a local dive.
“What?” I said.
Drew yelled over the music: “JUST TELL HER YOU DON’T WANT HER TO LEAVE!”
“I heard you the first time,” I said. I slammed the rest of my beer down and continued, “but it’s out of the question.”
Drew finished his beer. “Don’t you love her though?”
“Yeah I do, but think about the opportunity this affords me.”
We both got up and squeezed our way out of the crowded shit-hole. T-Club is the kind of bar you go to when you want to get drunk and not get bothered by anyone asking you if you’re driving home. Plus the beer is cheap; it’s great.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” Drew said.
“Check this out: Maddie moves out of town in two and a half months. I get to stay. And nobody gets broken up with.”
“But the relationship ends.”
“Sure it does. But nobody has to get broken up with. Nobody has to do the actual breaking up. Two and a half months and the relationship is over.”
“Sounds kinda fucked.”
“No really, this expiration date is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“What about her?”
“Maddie. Your girlfriend. Drew headed for our cars so I followed.
“Oh I don’t care.” Drew turned around and cocked an eyebrow. “I mean, I do care but if you think of it like a crashing airplane…you know what I mean?”
“No clue,” he said.
“When the plane’s going down and they drop the oxygen masks,” I said, “you put yours on first. And then maybe help the little kid next to you.”
“What are you saying? You wouldn’t help the kid?”
“The plane’s going to crash anyway.”
I got home fine. All the lights were out which is good because that’s how I left them. My parents still weren’t– aren’t– back from their three month long vacation. Good, I thought. I’ll be really surprised if they stay gone for the whole three months.
So that’s where I sat with my original opening to the next blog. Or maybe that’s where I sit with it. My Girlfriend Is Out of Town is like a pie to me and my next project is also a pie but it’s a better pie. Sure, some of it is going to taste similar but goddamn it just go with me on this pie simile.
Check this out: I’m a vegetarian now; I only eat chips and coffee now and I feel great.
There was this yoga class I took the other day and the instructor asked us to sit on the ground. That shit was fucking bananas because the teacher tricked us into doing yoga from the start.
Shit, man, I’m the pinnacle of good health.
That was where I sat (or is it “sit”?) with the second opening of my next blog. My last few paragraphs have been kind of like a pie– kind of like my next project which is kind of like another pie. But better. Yeah, I know: some of the ingredients are the same but goddamn it I’m doing the pie thing again
What you previously read was the third opening of my next blog. Any and all instances of sitting have been entirely eliminated from the first sentence of this paragraph and its quality shows. This is a paragraph that is also entirely void of the word “pie” except for this instance that shows you just how strong-willed I am.
“This writing is going nowhere” is what I mean to say.