There are four young, attractive pre-med girls living in the unit below mine, and for the last few months, I've been a little bit in love with the Asian one. A month or so back, her and the Chesty One went out with the my fireman roommate and myself. Evidently, Chesty One had a crush on Fireman, so it was like Asian and myself were wing-people. By the end of the night, Chesty was no longer into Fireman, but Asian and I really seemed to hit it off. Because I was just trying to play Goose to my roomy's Maverick, I wasn't even trying very hard, which is probably why I was so money. Wait, Goose and Maverick were in the same plane. I suppose I was the Maverick to his Ice Man. Wait, Maverick was always leaving his wing man, and getting reprimanded for it. Let's just say I was the Wolfman to his Hollywood.* Anyway, I felt like her and I were no doubt enjoying each other's company, but I in no way thought there was much interest in either direction. That is until I found myself thinking about her before I went to bed that night, immediately the next morning, and periodically for the months to come.
Having a thing for your neighbor is a tough spot to be in, because even though I'm almost positive there's some interest on her end, if I'm wrong and go for it, I run the risk of feeling like a nimrod every time I say hello to her while taking out the trash. For this reason, and because we have opposite schedules, I hadn't talked to her in a while, but tonight I texted her to tell her we were going to a bar near our apartment. She called back to tell me they were going to SoPo, and I must have really been digging on her to show my face in that yuppy, guys in striped-shirts, girls in tube-tops shit-hole. When I get in there she's all in my fries. Before long she's grinding upon me like there's a piece of flint on my package and she desperately needs to make a spark.
Then a bunch of dudes these girls know show up, and before long she's dancing with the Big Headed One. He's show-boating by shaking his butt (not well in my estimation), and her dumb-ass is eating it up. After watching her neglect my friend and myself for some time, my BFF and I excuse ourselves, and she doesn't even say, like, "You sure you have to go?" It's just a flippant "thanks for coming," and right back she goes to her fucking, Goodyear Blimp-headed, fuck-stick guy.
BFF and I then went back to his house for one last beer and the last 45 minutes of Swingers. Jeez-Louise that movie is still great! I was enjoying the flick, but then every couple of minutes I'd get pissed about the whole neighbor thing.
Well, I take solace in the fact that she was gladly singing along to an O.A.R. song. They're a poor man's Dave Mathews band, and I don't even like Dave Matthews, which puts them in the destitute range. Any girl with taste that poor couldn't hang with The Gancer long term.
But she is fucking, damn cute. I was replaying the events in my head, and having spurts of anger on my walk home too. You ever get that? You know, where you do crazy shit like smack a stop sign as hard as you can for no acceptable reason? Then I get home and see some dude and one of the neighbors, squatted down, kanoodling on the porch. My heart sank, but a closer look revealed the couple to be not Asian Neighbor, but Chesty Neighbor and Ben (a guy with a cranium size closer to the national average). I know his name because when these girls were still being cool to me tonight (they declared me their favorite neighbor around this time) Chesty asked me to evaluate Ben when he got to the bar. Well, with or without my endorsement, I think Uncle Ben is giving her the San Francisco treat as I type this poorly-written, drunken paragraph. Wait, Rice-A-Roni is the San Francisco treat. Oh well. Fuck it.
Hey, Seven Readers, have you ever had a person of the opposite sex on the horizon, and then suddenly it doesn't work out and you're left with a bleak-ass horizon? Well, my horizon is slightly bleaker, but if she likes O.A.R, chodes like the guy she was dancing with, and being prone to sudden-onset, being overwhelmingly unneighborly, then maybe I'm not missing out on too much.
P.S.: Scary Monster, and I suppose anyone else who read and were too scared/disgusted to comment, was privy to the original, drunker, angrier, more depressed version of this post, because this morning I took out some of the scarier lines and smoothed out the edges.
*If you haven't seen Top Gun a few dozen times like me, then you're going to be more than a little lost during this section.