The bearer of good news
Two unpleasant things from the past 24 hours:
1) Last night, I dreamed Obama was shot. I was in a car with my mom, driving over the George Washington Bridge, when they announced the news on the radio. My mom said "My God...I hope he doesn't die." "He won't," I said, confidently for some reason. Moments later they announced he was dead, and I just thought the whole world was over. That's how I felt when I woke up; I was in a total panic. It was supreme luck that his voice happened to come on my clock radio after a few seconds, in an NPR Morning Edition story about the economic stimulus plan. It took a few minutes before I was convinced I hadn't woken into another dream (since that's been happening a lot lately too), but eventually my heart rate slowed and I deemed it worthwhile to get out of bed.
2) Tonight, I helped run the merch table for an event The L was doing at a bar on the Lower East Side. There was a tall, crusty-punk looking dude who was walking back and forth all night, and I was trying to work out where I'd seen him before when Sharon, another L intern, said, "Kid Rock just walked in." He did look an awful lot like Kid Rock, and I noted that he was much taller than I would have imagined. Two hours later I was leaving the bar and passed the guy sitting on a stool by the door. It seemed odd that Kid Rock would be checking IDs at some random bar, and when I was halfway down the block I realized where I'd really seen him before. I ran back inside and asked him, "Is your name Jake?"
"Yeah," he said politely.
"Did you date a girl named Jean for a minute, like, six years ago?"
His eyes glazed over. "Seven," he said. "Unfortunately, I still remember that."
Oops. Jean had been a friend of mine in high school, but I had never been formally introduced to Jake and certainly had no idea how their relationship had ended. Now, I could guess. "I knew her," I said, searching. "That's, uh, where I know you from."
"Right."
This was very awkward. Out of ideas, I offered, "My friend though you looked like Kid Rock."
"Yup," he replied, as though I'd said he looked like Hitler. "Man," he deadpanned, "you're just the bearer of good news tonight, aren't you?"
I couldn't argue with his sarcastic logic, so I apologized for ruining his night and went home.
1) Last night, I dreamed Obama was shot. I was in a car with my mom, driving over the George Washington Bridge, when they announced the news on the radio. My mom said "My God...I hope he doesn't die." "He won't," I said, confidently for some reason. Moments later they announced he was dead, and I just thought the whole world was over. That's how I felt when I woke up; I was in a total panic. It was supreme luck that his voice happened to come on my clock radio after a few seconds, in an NPR Morning Edition story about the economic stimulus plan. It took a few minutes before I was convinced I hadn't woken into another dream (since that's been happening a lot lately too), but eventually my heart rate slowed and I deemed it worthwhile to get out of bed.
2) Tonight, I helped run the merch table for an event The L was doing at a bar on the Lower East Side. There was a tall, crusty-punk looking dude who was walking back and forth all night, and I was trying to work out where I'd seen him before when Sharon, another L intern, said, "Kid Rock just walked in." He did look an awful lot like Kid Rock, and I noted that he was much taller than I would have imagined. Two hours later I was leaving the bar and passed the guy sitting on a stool by the door. It seemed odd that Kid Rock would be checking IDs at some random bar, and when I was halfway down the block I realized where I'd really seen him before. I ran back inside and asked him, "Is your name Jake?"
"Yeah," he said politely.
"Did you date a girl named Jean for a minute, like, six years ago?"
His eyes glazed over. "Seven," he said. "Unfortunately, I still remember that."
Oops. Jean had been a friend of mine in high school, but I had never been formally introduced to Jake and certainly had no idea how their relationship had ended. Now, I could guess. "I knew her," I said, searching. "That's, uh, where I know you from."
"Right."
This was very awkward. Out of ideas, I offered, "My friend though you looked like Kid Rock."
"Yup," he replied, as though I'd said he looked like Hitler. "Man," he deadpanned, "you're just the bearer of good news tonight, aren't you?"
I couldn't argue with his sarcastic logic, so I apologized for ruining his night and went home.
posted by Daoud at 7:34 PM
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