Thursday, February 12, 2009

403 Words From LA Cafe in Waterford

I came to this restaurant to eat soup and write, but so far the best laid plans of mice and men have gone tumbling away and won't come back again. I know that's not really how the rest of the poem goes, but I can't look it up because I'm using this "write or die" application that's going to fucking electrocute me or something if I don't write 400 words in the next 20 minutes.

I didn't come here to write a goddamn blog entry. I came here to work on an assignment for a class I'm "taking" but not really enrolled in. (If ever "taking" were the appropriate verb for the situation it would be now.) I can't concentrate because there's not one, but two first dates happening within mere feet, collective inches of me, and that shit is fucking distracting. The table across from me is a traditional twenty something pairing. The girl keeps making vague complaints about something in a voice as soft as cotton. The bald headed man (stylishly shaved by choice I think) makes loud, helpful suggestions as to how she might rectify her many woes.

"Maybe your mother is just under a lot of pressure right now. Perhaps you just need to be a good listener."
"Gee, it's weird that you should gain weight now when you never have before. You're not eating more, are you? Oh, you are? Huh."
"Have you ever tried yoga?"

This guy obviously hasn't read Men are from Mars, Women are from a Planet of Whiney Crybabies Who Don't want real Solutions to their Problems so much as Someone to Bitch at Who won't Offer any Constructive Suggestions. (Not the real title of the book, nor is it my opinion of women but rather the books authors. A book that I have read, for some reason.)

The other date isn't going well. The problem is this isn't actually a date at all, but only one of them knows that.

I'm going to have to leave it at that, because both dates have politely broken up and the moment isn't really pertinent anymore, now is it? I should really just wrap this up and get back to work. When I complete this sentence, I'l be at 403 words.


Anonymous said...

Which one knew?

Molly said...

I'm afraid I'm not responding to any Anonymous comments until the author makes themselves known.

Anonymous said...

That write or die thing is really awesome. Thanks for that!

Maeko said...

Wow. I love this. I think it's completely pretentious of any city not New York or LA to actually have anything called "LA", especially Waterford, but hopefully the L.A. means something other than the worst piece of shit, ugly-people-go-there-and-leave-beautiful, no-one-is-truly-from-there, all the refuse of the world goes there to "make it big", Gotham city... LA is putrid.

I wish you would write a book already. You're probably sick of hearing it, but I'm such a fan and you don't even have your pitch yet. I can't wait.