let's start with the bitter...
NJ "came down" friday night and we stopped into the lounge for a couple of beers. as oliver was still nowhere to be found, i finally got the scoop from our barwhore who told us his deathbike had slid on some gravel and shattered his foot. he will be a cripple for several more months. and then i am certain he will hop himself back up on his little vehicle of mangle-ation and spin into life-threatening action.
at some point, NJ confused my disenchantment with anger (though i said repeatedly i was not mad which probably looked quite a bit like passive-aggressive behavior, which it wasn't) and even though i let him hold my hand during the midnight screening of bottle rocket, he still assumed i was being "angry" and refused to give me a kiss goodnight as he rolled away from me and took his feet with him. he's told me on many occasions that if i am not going to "sleep with him", then i get no tokens of affection. "it's either all or nothing, bitch!", is what he says.
i tell you all of these boudoir secrets for a reason. as a result of his manly behavior, god decided to strike NJ down while in the throes of his secluded slumber. as we exited the building saturday on our way to fort worth to see the caravaggio to dali exhibit, i tried to impart information regarding his car. even after he went and woefully stared at his car, i still wasn't convinced it was his... no matter how many times i checked for the dent in the right front quarter panel. oh... but it was his alright:
we laughed. we cried. we tallied up the hundreds of dollars of cd's he had lost. we decided to screw the exhibit and go to lunch instead. then he received a phone call from the management of neighboring futura lofts that some of his personal items had been found in the parking lot. we went to retrieve some papers the little strung-out heathens had decided were lacking in value to them.
somewhere in the middle of all of this, NJ realizes he had also left his man-bag in the car containing a book of checks, those retarded and unsolicited blank checks from chase, and his super-huge paycheck (because he makes some crazy bank). after his hysterics quelled a bit, we called the police again to file a report. since this was a very serious crime, they sent out an officer from brooklyn. he talked funny. i loved him.
after listening to my neighbor tell us stories about patrolling the neighborhood in the middle of nights with her gigantic dog, police whistle, and mace, i went to pick up some sustenance for us from cosmic cafe... all the while scanning the alleyways, trashcans, and bums for NJ's missing red man-bag. the officer from the "crime lab", or whatever they call it, pulled up to the building right after me and we watched her dust for fingerprints. it was terribly exciting and NJ and i have both decided we would now like to begin careers in the crime-solving field.
after reclining for awhile on my cement "living room" floor, NJ drove back to carrollton for the night where god punished him some more by giving him old man back problems. it really doesn't pay to shirk someone with god firmly on her side.
the sweet is still to come...