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August 25, 2010

Surrealism At Its Finest

Hi babies. You doin alright? How are you holding up in this heat? Yeah, you heard right, it was 107 in the DFW Metroplex yesterday (um, Monday), uh huh… yeah, I am a small puddle on the floor typing to you right now.

So last week, wait… let me back up.

A few Friday’s ago… I believe it was the 13th, our high school had a “pre-reunion party” at a place called Fox Sport’s Grill up in Plano. It was our 20th reunion and people came in from all OVER the place. I was tapped on the shoulder to turn around into the face of one of my best girlfriends through those last two years in high school. Her ass has been in Miami (FOREVER) and I grabbed her in a monster hug and immediately burst into tears. Hi… I’m classy.

I’m even classier when the drinks had been flowing for over 6 hours and 1 am rolled around to what I will now refer to the “Time of the Licking”. Yeah, I don’t know. FaceBook, I’m sorry baby. I never meant to lick all those people. But a good time was had by all. (PS.. Shut Up Joey.) Also, that’s not me… it’s Gene Simmons but sweatier and with curlier hair… and female… and looks a lot like me. (Poor Dre’, had to drive my silent ass home. You know it’s not good when I go into stealth mode.)

So that was Friday, Saturday I was fragile and stupid and got the oil changed in my car, signed up for laser hair removal* and tried to eat a single chicken sandwich in 12 hours. Sunday I left for a six days with two worky (Houston and San Antonio) things back to back and got back in town Friday evening.

*Oh you KNOW you want to ask.

Saturday was mainly laundry and grocery shopping (won’t be leaving town again for a while, WOOOO!) and trying to stay cool and comfortable. I played a LOT of Rock Band, ate a sandwich (it’s true, I totally did) and that morning I set up a “Catch Up” time for Sunday morning with an old friend.

So TERRY (follow the link, I’ll wait) left me a message on FB early Sat morning that said, “I just left you a voicemail.” So I listened to the VM and it is the most intriguing thing. He sounds almost the same, but with this West Texas accent. I was freaked out, didn’t know if I wanted to text, phone, run away, go back to bed, whatever… but I had promised that if I picked a day, he’d pick a place and we’d catch up over coffee.

I finally bundled up the nerve and called him. He was so freaking casual. I, however, was not. I blurted out, “Ok, how in the world did you acquire a southern accent?” He was like, “Want the truth?” “Yep.” “Alright… Several years in a West Texas (facility [sic]).” You could have shot me and I wouldn’t have noticed. I am sure my nervous grin was snapped on so wide my head almost fell into two pieces.

We agreed to time… “Eight am?” I almost blurted out, “Are you high?!” thought better of it and said, “How about a little after nine?” “Pete’s Coffee at Market Street, 9:30, SW corner of blah street and blah street [sic].” (Nervous smile about to split my skull in two.) “OKAY!” I shouted.

I am so fucking smooth.

So the next morning, I fixed my hair (like it would matter in this heat), put on minimal make up and then fretted over what to wear. Coffee house, coffee house… what the hell do you wear to meet up with some man you haven’t seen in 22 years? Whatever, denim capris and black t-shirt, flip flops… and that nervous grin. There… PERFECT. Make up… um… will I cry? Who knows… Slap on a little waterproof mascara, lip gloss… Good to go. Maybe… who knows… no one will see past the hideous, rictus grin!

I drove to the meeting spot and walked in a few minutes before 9:30 am. He was sitting on the little couch with an ankle crossed over a knee. One long lanky arm across the back of the couch and he stood when I walked in, gave me a warm hug and said hello. I may have blacked out. I’m not sure. Somehow (his manners probably) I ended up with a latte, seated with a stack of napkins in front of me because I was immediately sweating like a horse and I kind of turned to him and said, “Okay, the last twenty two years… Go.”

He laughed good-naturedly then laid out the background of what I had missed since the last time I saw him. I thought it had been at Burger King (use searchy thing), but apparently I saw him after that near his parents’ place off Lawndale. I was riding in the car with Craig (seriously, this was all news to me) and when Craig flagged Terry down, we all spoke for a bit, he asked me for a kiss on the cheek and when I went to oblige, he turned his head so I kissed him on the mouth. In his words, “Just to be a shit.”

We got through that part and then he went on to after he dropped out of school, the following years, the trouble with his family and habits. What had driven him from one year or one consequence to the next and how it snowballed. Each story more horrible than the last. I wanted to comfort him, hold him, to tell him I was sorry. I still don’t know if that would have been welcome or scoffed at.

Then he told me about getting sick, being in the hospital close to death for a number of weeks and the young girl that used to look at him with such trusting eyes broke. I tried to stifle it y’all. I’m just not that strong. I cried for him. Then I cried for me. It was exhausting and we spent four hours talking. There may have been a little closure; there may have been some rehashing of old events and discussing our various feelings over them. He told me that when he saw the pictures of me and Mister-X (I so need to re-do my “About Me” page) he thought I had finally married Ryan, a man who wrote me poetry in the 8th grade. I told him I still wanted to punch Karen in the neck for (in my opinion, even though he and I had broken up) stealing him away from me. We were honest, we were long winded and when I told him I wasn’t that hard girl with a wall around my heart anymore that I cried at the drop of a hat he said, “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

His face is still so familiar to me and it was amazingly surreal to see him and hear him tell stories after half of our lives had gone by.

The day after we talked he called me. Just to say, “Hi.” It was a very unexpected pleasure, and I hope that we continue with our getting to know one another again. I admitted that I didn’t quite know how to feel about our getting together for coffee and the subsequent four hour discussion. He, always one with eloquent words, simply replied, “Do you really need to feel a certain way about it?”

No. I guess I don’t.

About August 2010

This page contains all entries posted to Suzanna Danna in August 2010. They are listed from oldest to newest.

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