Human Tetris. There should be a home version of this game.
If you’re a single person contemplating what a life of long-term couplehood is like, consider my past Saturday.
After struggling to get out of bed at a reasonable hour, I had brunch at S & W Country Diner in Culver City with the girlfriend, Geney Boy, and Doctor. Geney Boy and Doctor also have girlfriends, but obviously lack the powerful man musk I emit that compels my women to maintain a close proximity to me at all times. Normally it takes forever to get a table here, but not today. Our waitress did forget to bring our toast, though; and for that we decided to teach her a harsh lesson by tipping her only 14.79%
Back at home, my girlfriend made me coffee, because I never order what passes for coffee at S & W, since it tastes like hot water and has a comparable caffeine level. We then headed over to Bergamot Station.
Bergamot Station used to be an old trolley station back when LA had the Red Line and naturally blonde women. Now it houses dozens of art galleries, the Santa Monica Museum of Art, and various artsy businesses. Today we weren’t too impressed with what we saw at the galleries, with a few exceptions. I was blown away by Sebastiao Salgado’s photographs. Maybe it’s because almost anything printed on silver gelatin print looks like fine art. I wanted to buy his photo of a giant penguin colony in Antarctica, but it cost $12,000. It’s weird paying that much for something that can be easily reproduced. I’d at least want it to be printed with real penguin blood.
We were later joined by Doctor and his girlfriend, who’d talked him into going to a yoga class with her after brunch. We looked at paintings that were going to be auctioned off the next day. All were in the $2,000-$10,000 range. For reasons that I’ll explain in another entry, I was looking for paintings of flowers. None of the auction items had floral themes, but even if they did, I’m not sure I could shell out that much for art – unless I could travel back in time and buy it from Picasso or Van Gogh directly. Picasso would probably be laughing to himself, thinking that I was a chump for shelling out a couple grand for Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. That is until later, when I travel back in time to visit him at his deathbed and show him the check I got for selling it in 3000 AD for $10 billion. Little do I realize that in the distant future, money does not exist: the only currency is love.
On the way home, my girlfriend asked me to stop at Bed, Bath and Beyond (fuck!) so she could check out frying pans. I saw a frying pan going for $220, presumably because it’s extremely shiny. I’d feel too nervous about scratching or besmirching the $220 pan and probably do all of my frying on the cheap dirty pan, unless I was trying to impress foreign dignitaries who were standing inside my kitchen as I taught them the recipe for world peace.
Dinner was at an Italian place called Pomodoro. Every time I eat at an Italian restaurant, my girlfriend always prefers my dish over hers, and it happened again as she gorged on my penne dish. Including us, there were four fricking couples at the table: Doctor, Geney Boy, Rog, and their women. Somebody asked each couple to describe their first kiss. I temporarily pondered stabbing myself in the face to avoid answering this question. This is the kind of shit that happens when you have four couples eating together.
After dinner I tried to talk everybody into going to a birthday party at Hollywood Canteen; but with this many non-single people, I already knew the answer. You’re probably thinking Cranium, movie theater, or sleep. Surprisingly, Rog really wanted to drink, so my evening was somewhat saved. It was decided that we go someplace that was nearby, which turned out to be smoky Karaoke Bleu. Rog dragged me onstage to sing “Staying Alive” with him. For an actor, Rog is surprisingly stage-shy at times, but not shy enough to prevent him from choosing a Bee-Gees song. Thank God they sold $6 Stolis. It helped me enjoy our following "Do They Know It's Christmas?" duet.
Couples day ended with Rog’s girlfriend singing Olivia Newton John’s “Magic." As we walked to our cars, I realized that it was one o'clock. I go to bed at 2 AM on weekdays.
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