tipsy

After class, I poor myself a glass of wine and walk across the room, balancing the glass in one hand and carrying my laptop in the other.  It occurs to me to move with poise and caution as to not spill the red wine on the white carpet.  The image of red wine on white reminds me of a boy I was entertaining flirtations with at the very end of 2007 and the first few days of the ecstatic state of 2008 (which seems like ages ago now).  

He was a total train wreck of a man—a boy living in the body of a man (he still is).  Late 20s, mortgage, frozen dinners, deadbeat roommate, a steady job at his father’s company where the prodigal son reigned supreme—he had it all with nothing at all.  Nick was a total clown, always looking for attention, and loving anything he got.  He dressed to impress the Abercrombie crowd, sprayed ‘Obsession’ cologne all over his body, and drank to excess for the entertainment of others more than his own.  And it was so appealing at the time.  And as the story goes, I was feeling reckless in a 20-something moral whirlwind myself, so I found myself spending my entire Christmas break, day and night, at Nick’s house which was like vacationing at a fraternity house.  It didn’t take long for me to notice dark red wine stains all over his white carpet and also his bed.  When I mentioned this to him, Nick told me, matter-of-factly, of the night he spilled red wine all over himself and that he had matching stains on a pair of white underpants (which he promptly showed me).

Thusly I walk carefully so that I never end up like Nick.  

Playlist from that New Year’s weekend romance:

“Sweetest Girl”  Wyclef Jean

“Take You There”  Sean Kingston

“Moments Have You” & “Fallout”  John Frusciante