she was hot in that kardashian way, which might just be an armenian thing: thick brows, smoky eyes, lip filler, and showing off those bazooms like, hi!
so whats going on at land space tonight? i asked her checking out the destination, a former strip club id actually been in a few times, most recently right before the plague.
first date, sorta, roxy told me flipping through her phone but super chatty.
how’d you find him?
tinder she said embarrassingly, explaining she had just gotten out of a long relationship that started… on tinder. so why not.
quickly i learned he was a punk rocker in a small band and he’s in between apartments, let’s say.
roxy, i said, adjusting the mirror, judgingly.
what? she laughed. im bored and he asked. i said, fine but you better prepare because a lot of punk rock boys are stinky and i do not want stinky.
i laughed. she laughed. the freeway was crowded but manageable.
so lemme ask you, i said, if one thing leads to another where are you gonna go?
i’m not gonna lead to another, she said. i’m gonna meet him and be his friend and that’s that.
how adorable. be his friend i thought.
i told him maybe MAYBE if you’re cute i’ll give you a little kiss but you’ve gotta brush your teeth and you have to make sure you shower before we meet up. and he also told me he smokes cigarettes. and i told him that’s not my style.
you are just giving him every chance, i complimented.
you know why? because i don’t care. i don’t like this guy. if i liked him i wouldn’t be such a pushover. what do they say, “you can’t be the golden retriever. you have to be the black cat.” that’s what they tell women.
i’ve never heard this, i said.
it’s a thing. they say, for men to want you, you have to be the black cat. but I’m always the golden retriever. but with this guy, i don’t give a fuck because clearly i’m not gonna be that into him.
is he really handsome?
he’s a cutie, but again, the hygiene is sus.
so are you gonna give him a smell test right away?
i think im gonna have to, right? he said he was going to bring some mouthwash and i said that’s wise. it’s funny, because i’m not materialistic or high maintenance, but i guess today i need to establish some regulations.
are women this horny? this lonely? this fuck-it-it’s-friday i literally will meet a stranger even if the odds are the B.O.’s gonna be unforgettable?
should i be giving her my number? was she crazy?
was she Good Crazy?
i continued the cross examination: so he’s traveling the country… with his band? have they played here in la lately?
no, his band played in oakland the other day and he got in his car and drove down here for this date, i guess. and he knows people who are playing tonight
so he can crash with them tonight if he doesn’t get lucky with you? i asked.
oh it’s not gonna happen, she said. even if i ended up being like oh he’s great, it’s not going to happen tonight. no. sorry.
as we turned the corner, bam, there was a giant moon rising just above hollywood.
holy shit, didn’t expect that, i gasped.
full moon, she said, wow now im scared. maybe i should have stayed home.
i said, but you don’t care. which is good. no expectations is the place to be. see when guys don’t care we’ll at least say, fine we’re not gonna get married, but maybe we should make out a little since we’re here.
i might be down for that, she said, which I usually am, but i’m kinda sketchy with this one, because i don’t know if he’s cleeeeeean.
we were getting close. we passed an old sears that’s now a giant block-long hole. itd been an empty box for maybe a decade. weird how some things take forever to change and others come and go over night.
so smell test at the beginning, i asked, but if he fails do you leave?
no, i don’t leave. im gonna be his friend. im gonna make the most out of it. im gonna buy him drinks. he’s gonna buy me drinks. we’re gonna hang out. we’re gonna be friends and I will be his friend moving forward,
does he even have money for drinks? i asked, even though he…
yeahhh! she interrupted. he said he’s paying for me. i told him i’m broke, my sister got my uber.
wait, you’re not roxy?
ha, she laughed and said i’m veronica, and flashed her necklace with a sassy V on it.
does your sister know all these details about this dude and stuff?
yeah, she said, just dont get all drunk and stupid. mocking her in a valley girl accent.
how many drinks does it take for you to get drunk? i asked.
well i pre-gamed just now at roxy’s house, so.
omg what were you all shooting in there?
oh just some tito’s. just two mixed drinks.
you are fantastic, i admitted.
considered giving her my number if things get hairy, but the tyson fight was about to happen and i wanted to get wasted for it just in case netflix had paid him off not to bash the brains in of his youtuber opponent so this travesty in “boxing” could continue.
i need to drink sometimes like this because i’m shy. even if i’m not into him, he said we’re gonna hang out backstage with the band. i’m fucking shy. what am i gonna talk about with a band?
firstly, i said, you don’t seem that shy. we’ve been gabbing non stop.
well, you’re different, she said.
also, here’s what you might try if you’re backstage and no one knows what to say. i’ve seen this work way better with black cats than golden retrievers. just say, ok, let’s do a staring contest. first person who smiles or makes a face has to do a shot. it’s one-on-one, starting with me versus the singer, which one of youse is the singer?
staring contest? she said, thinking about it. i thought it’s whoever blinks?
make up any rule you want, but the idea is for you to break the ice by looking deep into the eyes of these people, and they into you, quietly, seriously, and while you do it, try reading their minds.
when she got out of the car i yelled, HOPE HE SMELLS GOOD!