Time is on my side...but not yours

This morning on my way to work from a really fun relaxing evening (which I will briefly summarize later) I ran into this guy I knew back in high school (well I was in high school, he's at least 10 years older than me). He used to have this thing with my next door neighbor (not that everyone and their father didn't) and well, it's a crazy situation - I probably did something that broke the friend code, but a lot of liquor was involved and I think that someone actually has to act like a friend in order to be included in this code...but I digress. Anyway, he and I have slightly kept in touch over the past few years.

I actually spoke to him for the first time in probably a few years back in December when the shit went down with the guy who owed me a grand (speaking of which, I'm expecting his mother's check for the second half in the mail this week - I will also tell this story later in this post, but it's not the point right now.) A mutual "friend" of ours (I say friend in quotations because he reminded me this morning that he is still angry at our "friend" until he decides to "come correct" - "grown men" are ridiculous.) called him up to "help" use physical intimidation to remedy my situation after I specifically asked him not to. However, if nothing, this guy is loyal as shit, so I got a frantic voicemessage saying "So and so called me and said that you were having a problem with someone owing you money - now you know he and I aren't talking so I know it's serious - do you need me to come out there and 'help'? Call me back." I called him back and explained that the situation was blown too out of proportion and if I needed his 'help' I'd be sure to reach out.

I spoke to him a few weeks later and he told me he was working construction in Coney Island and he would take me some time (did I ever mention that I love amusement park rides? WELL I DO). Anyway, we've been playing phone tag. Moreso, he calls me because he has a bluetooth and can talk while he's driving - and I text him back because I don't like talking on the phone. Well Monday, on my "date" with Mr. Fucking Boring as Shit (he wasn't that bad - I should just call him "Mr. Stuck his tongue in my mouth the first day he met me and I'm still not interested") , he called and I answered. He asked about liquor at my house, because I'm obviously the bar/liquor store and always have a stash (I do, but not of the bullshit he drinks - who the fuck really enjoys Hennessy...YUCK!) I told him I didn't have anything he wanted and I'd hit him up when I got home. As per usual, I texted, and he did not respond. No problem, not really sweating this guy at all.

So, as I started this entry by saying, I ran into him on my way to work because he's doing construction by my job now. He finally offered to take me to Coney Island again this weekend (which I plan on postponing because it's Memorial Day weekend and I plan on stuffing my face at as many barbecues that I can find myself at) What I first noticed about him, which I usually do, is how jovial this guy is. I think his voice should be deeper for his body type and his mentality, but it's not and that always makes me chuckle a little. The second thing I notice (actually it really probably was the first) was that while I was attracted to this guy 7+ years ago - Jesus Christ time has not been good to him. He's got lines in his face, which are fine but his teeth...HOLY HELL. What the fuck happened?! He's been chewing on dirty tar covered rocks, I swear.

His mouth went from something like this:

To something like this:

Well maybe it wasn't THAT bad, but Jesus he had smokers teeth and some were missing and his breath was all tobacco-y and he was on his way to get cigarettes and how do you let yourself get like that?!

I mean he's still a nice guy and I'm going to let him pay for me and my friend to ride rides at Coney Island, but come on L, get that shit taken care of!

This got me to thinking. Have I aged well? I mean obviously I've lost an incredible amount of weight (not so much lost as had removed, but you get the idea) but will I look like that when I'm in my mid-30s? Can I see letting myself go like that?

Nah man, these teeth are going to be properly maintained forever - or at least until it's time for me to replace them all with dentures or crowns or something of the like.

----

Yesterday was lovely going to the baseball game. After wanting to kill my mother for turning one of the guards into her butler (she had him bring me three separate tickets because she was already inside and I was not for which I apologized profusely.) I met up with B and we walked around a bit before taking our seats in the nosebleeds and trying not to kill this group of hispanic teenagers that need to be smacked around by SOMEBODY.

The Yankees won in a nail-biter where they were down by 2 in the bottom of the 9th and scored 3 runs to win the game. Lots of high fives were given to strangers and it was awkwardly glorious and we all reveled in the celebration of the home team winning. Also, as my mother informed me, Frank Sinatra sings the winning song when the game is over, Liza Manelli sings the losing song....and I like Frankie better, so that made me happy.

Afterward, B and I walked back to her house with the intention of drinking sangria. Instead, I made burgers and we sat outside with this guy who is her friend and maybe mine too...that I couldn't actually tell you because I have no communication with him really beyond when I see him when I'm with her. Anyway, it was a great conversation. A lot about sex, but isn't that what most 20-something conversations are about after midnight? It was gorgeous outside. We got kicked out of the park and had to stand around like loiterers and that kind of blew, but it was fun nonetheless - even without a drink!

The commute to work was way shorter and although I almost got into another altercation with another indignant little hispanic teenage girl, the ride wasn't so bad.

Sadly, I'm actually going to leave my guy who owes me a grand story until another day. I have to leave work soon to go back to the chiro.