Cruisers and Diner Talk

[Originally written on this date in 2004]

The vibes leftover from that house party must have still been surging through my veins,  because I dared to request that Jon pick me up in E-town, just a few blocks from the apartment.  Of course the Asshole was nowhere to be found so I was not worried if he saw us, but I do have to slightly question what made me so bold.

In any event, we headed into the Center to drool over classic cars.  They were lined up in a parking lot while oldies blasted out over loud speakers.  Jon held my hand as we navigated around the lot, pointing out his favorite vehicles and rattling off a list of facts as to why he liked them so much.  Quite a few of the older gentlemen who owned said cars were quite impressed on his wealth of knowledge and engaged in conversations with him.  It seemed they were surprised that someone like Jon would have such a respect for vintage vehicles, and he happily explained that his father had imparted the wisdom upon him as a young child.  They certainly were pleased and I was amused because I really enjoy the way he speaks to people.

After having our fill of that, Jon drove up to the Arlington diner, which has been re-faced with chrome and looks splendid.  Split a joint before heading inside and proceeded to order a massive spread of soups, salad and the daily special.  We spent many hours talking about nothing.  Okay, not really, but the subjects were so varied, it is hard to pick just one.  Apparently my memory is also failing me at the moment because so many things have been going on and I barely have time to jot down notes.

There was much sentimentality exhanged in the parking lot, mostly because I really dislike having to say good-bye to Jon.  Considering that I feel as though I have waited so long to find someone like him, going our separate ways after spending quality time together is almost painful.  He left me with a few new bite marks which I may have encouraged.  The last huge bruise was easily explained away as an accidental slippage on the wet floor, and the arm making contact with a door knob.  Being a Carny, I always enjoy the opportunity to flex my skills and often impress myself with how well I can bullshit, not to mention the level of my ability to do so.

When I returned at five in the a.m., I was greeted by a very unhappy Asshole who decided to bitch and generally sling jealousy my way with accusations of “moving on” and whatever else.  Oh, sorry, I did not realize that living together automatically meant that we were in a mutually exclusive and monogamous relationship, especially since I do not remember agreeing to such.  Long story short, he was pissed that I am spending so much time with another guy and called me a whore.  Again, I really fail to see his logic or how I can be “cheating” on someone I am not actually dating.

He can say whatever he wants, because I am not going to feel bad nor am I going to allow him to shame me for enjoying the company of someone who means the world to me.  Of course I also have to remember not to mention anything to Jon, because I know he would not take kindly to me being called a whore.  For now I will do what I can to keep the situation under control, but if the Asshole decides to be less than civil, I will certainly have no problem getting Jon involved.

Only one of the two people mentioned in this entry were in my thoughts as I took a two hour nap.

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One comment on “Cruisers and Diner Talk

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