waiting

"i felt like i spent today waiting for something," i posted briefly on facebook, before i took it down. "i guess not," that was the second line i backspaced through. no; too direct, even with just the first sentence. then i threw up some ellipses, which i came back to erase an hour later. or maybe less.

i got stood up. again. last night was an accident, i could understand your mom showing up uninvited to take you home from work. i was only sitting on the beach, cracking into the first of two pepsi bottles i'd carefully but expertly partially filled with rum in the navy pier bathroom, trying to figure out the coolest position to be in when you came up from behind me - would it be if i was laying down, sunglasses off, eyes closed, hands behind my head, smiling aimlessly up at the sun? or if i was sitting upright, letting all the normally-unseen bits of my tattoos glare in the light, drinking from the rum i'd promised her, knowing it'd draw her like a fly to honey? but suddenly it didn't matter, and you were heading home, and i was still sitting on the beach, the solitude no longer comfortably temporary, now slightly menacing. paranoias creeping in; i am drinking in public, after all. time to move, time to walk, walking and looking for maybe any cute girls walking or sitting alone, formulating the conversation in my head as i walked: "hey," as i'd sit down heavily, the smile not altogether fake, following up with some combination of the words "lonely," "bored," and/or "drunk." of course, it didn't happen. it rarely does. instead, i think i gave a girl wrong directions, and i met a small dog which climbed unbidden into my lap and began nibbling at my fingers.

but none of that, of course, bothered me that much. whatever; drinking alone on the beach suits me. it was the promise, later that night to meet up with me the next night. which is tonight. right now, actually. you might notice that i am on the computer, not enjoying the comfort of beauty.

i even saved some rum.