Monday, January 31, 2005

A Story About Four Boys In Jersey

Friday night, The Bar At Tenth And Willow.

11:35 p.m.
Me (to bartendar): Can I get a Red Bull?
Boy w/ spikey hair: You have really shiny hair.
Me: Thanks!
Boy: What do you use on it?
Me: This intensive conditioner stuff, I don't know. And some shine enhancer stuff.
Boy: It's just that a lot of girls have this big hair.
Me: I guess. (Awkward silence. Get Red Bull.) Well, I gotta get my friends.
Boy: Later.

1:45 a.m.
Boy w/ green sweater: You look really sober.
Me: I am.
Boy: That's cool. You have good karma.
Me: Thanks. (He then proceeds to rub my shoulders and those belonging to all of my friends, including guys.)

2:50 a.m. Outside TBATAW.
I spot Courtney talking to two guys.
Me: Don't talk to her! She has a boyfriend! She's married!
Boy #1: Hey, you're cute. Wow, you're really cute.
Me: Wow, thanks!
Boy: I saw you inside. Hey, I have a beach house in Belmore. (He's already making plans for us! Why do boys make plans like that? Then they just stomp all over your really cute heart. I'm a drama queen, sue me.)
Me: That's cool. I'm Tina.
Boy: I'm Joe Renaldi. (Or something like that.)
Me: Is that Italian?
Boy: Yep. Hey, can I get your number? I might call you in two days instead of three! (Referring to the Three-Day Rule. Bold move, I like it!)

It is now two and a half days later. I don't really care. I had my fill of Jersey Italians last year. What was that kid's name? Sam? On our third date, he made up some excuse as to why he couldn't take the train back to Jersey, and the sweet kid that I am, I said he could come to my Brooklyn apartment. He never called again when I said I didn't want to do "that" with him.

Saturday, January 8, 2005

Gee Whiz. It's Dandy Being Sweet, Ain't It?

Hot Boy I've been eyeing around town for two months talked to me today. We got pizza at Benny Tudino's (Home of America's Biggest Slice). He ate two big-ass slices and bought my slice.

HB: So what do you do?
Me: I work for a teen magazine. I'm a writer.
HB: Oh, my girlfriend's a writer. She works for The Queens Ledger-Times.
Me (Fuuuuck.): Oh, that's nice. So, how'd you meet her? I find it so hard to meet people here!
HB: Blah blah blah. Blah blah. But you're so, uh, sweet. You'll be fine, believe me. You're a sweet girl.

Fuck you. Fuck you and double fuck you. Story of my God-forsaken LIFE!

Monday, January 3, 2005


Boo. The holidays are over. I guess I'm sort of glad. After all, the holidays left me with a 5-pound weight gain and a $600 credit card bill. Ha. I'm exaggerating as usual. The night I walked in my apt. after a two-week haitus, my roommate's scale put me at a whopping 147 lbs. Whaaah! But the next day, I was back down to 141.5. Yeah. Still 10 lbs. more than I'd like, but whatev. I can see this going off on another Tina, weight and food entry, so I'll stop right there.

On a good note, I spent $240 today! But I got soo much stuff! Two pairs of jeans, a pair of red heels, seven shirts, a skirt, two pairs of PJ pants, two hot bras and two pairs of panties. Woooh! I know you don't give two shits about all that, but if I have any single, non-married readers left, perhaps you can relate: That fab feeling of having loads of brand-new clothes lasted all of two hours. Why? No dates, no boys. No crushes at work. No crushes. Period. No one to care if I look sexy or not. Boo.

But I did go back to the Hot Boy Grocery today. And yet again, loads of hotties for me to oogle. I did. In the deli line. For starters, Hot Boy #1 was holding everything up. He just had to get 1/2 lb. Alpine Lace Swiss, 1/4 lb. Land O'Lakes Sharp Cheddar, 1 lb. Master Choice Honey Ham and 1 lb. Boar's Head Mesquite Turkey. Daaamn. That took 15 minutes! During that time, I was racking my brain with something witty to say to him. Something like, "Hey! You're holding up the line, buddy!" (Insert sweet smile.) Or, "You gonna eat all that meat by yourself?" (Flirty laugh.) But of course, I just stood there staring at my meat of choice behind the glass: Master Choice Honey Maple Turkey. Boy #2 says to Boy #3: "Do we have to get a number or is this the line?" Boy # 3 shakes his head. Why didn't Boy #2 ask me that? Lord knows when I have a question and no friends are around, I scope out the hottest-looking specimen out there. Anything to spark up a convo, b/c Lord knows I'm terrible.
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