Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Post Confession

5 seconds:
I wonder, does "I love you" have a different meaning in Japanese than in English?

10 seconds:
I finish my beer.

20 seconds:
I'm watching a half-naked man with a ridiculous haircut scroll through I-tunes on the opposite side of the bar.

1 minute, 10 seconds:
I roll my eyes in response to hearing Thriller for the 3rd time in an hour.

3 minutes:
I feel ignorned by the barkeep, and I take a sip from the glass of liquid sitting in front of me.

3 minutes, 5 seconds:
A British tourist attaches his hand to the drink and asks who I am, and I respond by asking what's that he's drinking.

3 minutes, 30 seconds:
I learn another useless fact about Jameson Whiskey.

5 minutes:
I bet him that he can't tell the difference between bourbon and whiskey. I say that I'll buy both drinks if he can. At this point, I'm not sure how much money I've spent thus far.

5 minutes, 20 seconds:
He orders 2 drinks.

5 minutes, 25 seconds:
I chastise the bartender for not having an I-tunes mix prepared. I ask him how he can mix tapes and drinks at the same time.

5 minutes, 35 seconds:
I finish laughing at my own joke.

6 minutes:
I remember it again, wondering if it made sense and if I had slightly slurred my Xs.

6 minutes, 20 seconds:
The drinks are placed between the British tourist and myself. He pays, and I comment on the difference of maplyness. I put the money on the bar, and tell him to close his eyes.

7 minutes:
I switch the drinks around 10 times before I pick up the darker, more mapley one and place the glass in his hand.

7 minutes, 10 seconds:
He drinks, and I take the glass and place it next to the other one.

7 minutes, 15 seconds:
He responds, "bourbon". He's right.

7 minutes, 20 seconds:
I tell him so and slide the sen yen under his hand.

7 minutes, 40 seconds:
He tells me to close my eyes, and I do. I feel the glass beneath my lip despite it not having yet touched. I lean forward to put my mouth on the glass, tilt, "oh definitely whiskey", i think, while bourbon flows over my tongue.

7 minutes, 45 seconds:
I always hold shots in my mouth a few seconds to prepare myself for the chill that follows. Before I swallow, his mouth crashes onto mine.

7 minutes, 47 seconds:
The unexpectancy postpones my swallowing reflex.

7 minutes, 50 seconds:
He takes the bourbon from my mouth, and I become enraged.

8 minutes:
"why'd you do that?" I yell, most likely in that voice that has been described by my "friends" as "drunkenly shrill".
"Do what?" he asks, as if he hadn't any recollection of what happened.
"Take my whiskey?"

8 minutes, 20 seconds:
He calmly informs me that was bourbon. And takes a drink to confirm.

8 minutes, 25 seconds:
I find his audacity disgustingly attractive, and I steal back my shot in the same manner.

9 minutes, 30 seconds:
I become aware that I am making out with a stranger I've known less than 10 minutes.

10 minutes:
I feel a poke on my back from someone telling me they think it's time for me to go home. That person does not look very happy.

10 hours:
Thinking back on the night with my head in my hands, I remember the last person I played that game with. Sitting on an unmade bed with ice water and mary jane, giggly, happy, drawing stupid pictures that maden't any sense.
It is this memory that reinforces my belief that I've never been good with boundaries.
And naturally, i finished off wondering,
"Where do you go to learn those things?"


  1. life, dude.

    you're learning boundaries everyday, supposedly.

    looks like you've got a ways to go...


    i'm kidding, kidding.

    i hope you enjoyed that bourbon exchange--sounds fun! was he cute? old? bearded? dimples?

  2. oh, i love when people answer my rhetorical questions.

    you're a doll, t-bone, a real doll!