I was going to title this “heavy words are so lightly thrown,” but I thought that was a bit excessive, even for me.
I had a couple minor moments towards the end of last week that have, despite their tinyness, kinda stuck in my craw. Perhaps I should have said something at the time instead of, you know, blasting it all over the damn internet (with my vast, vast readership), but: tiny. And when they occurred, it wasn’t really the time/place to discuss.
That’s the problem with tiny moments that stick and irritate: they’re too small, the conversation goes past, or someone else is there so you can’t bring them up without looking petty, but then you’re thinking about them almost a week later, and kind of look like you’re holding a grudge.
Which I’m not, by the way.
Also, at the time, I figured, why bring down what was actually a pretty amazing week, what with crush action, free dinner from other, much more well-known (and deservedly so) YA librarians, and Humor the Speech Team Whale?
Moment I:
I’ve got this neighbor. Actually, I’ve got many friendly neighbors, but most of them don’t have a copy of
Different Class for me to borrow. We were friends before he moved onto my block, with what seem like 10-15 other guys. Sometimes we see each other out, but mostly we hang out in my living room, talking about movies or records.
This kid is one of those boys who mentions his girlfriend A LOT. Which, you know, I understand that, for most people, the person they’re romantically involved in is the most important person in their lives. So lots of stories. Sometimes, though, it just serves to remind me of how different I am from a lot of the girls in this town. The first time I met this kid, the first time he mentioned his girlfriend, it was to express surprise that I knew about some band or another, because she didn’t. Other male friend I was with concurred, that his last girl had not known much about music either.
This boy has been known to mention his girl in the first sentence he says to near-strangers, as well. And I think we’re fairly good friends at this point.
So then why, the other day when I was sitting on my stoop, reading my mail, did this happen?
Boy pulls up, yells a greeting from across the street, we have a very short conversation while I notice that a girl (presumably his girlfriend) gets out of another car and they go up into his apartment. With no introductions.
Not only do I find it irritating to not be introduced to a friend’s significant other (which of us doesn’t merit the intro, anyway?), I can’t help but wonder what girl thinks. Now, I’m not the jealous sort at all, but, were I that kind of girl, and my boy greeted his cutegirlneighbor with familiarity but didn’t have me meet her, I would find it a little suspicious, whether the suspicion was merited or not (I don’t need to say that it isn’t, do I? Cause it’s not.)
Plus, it used to really piss me off when Andy would do that to me. And he kinda did it a lot, though he usually followed up with an apology: “Sorry, I forgot her name.”
Moment II:
We’re at the fauxdinerDenny’s. Melissa has gone on home. I’m left with Shane and his friend. Somewhere around here, there’s an argument about which end of Pennsylvania David Lynch went to school in.* Then, mostly out of nowhere, Shane brings up locally produced zombie comics and the boys that produce them. Specifically, how I know one of them. And I still can’t tell: was this name-dropping on my behalf, meant to impress our booth partner? Hell, if I can’t impress anyone on my own, Zombie Policy #2 is probably the last name I’ll drop. But, let’s face it, when’s the last time I went out of my way to impress someone? If just being my darling self doesn’t cut it, fuck ‘em.
Or was it gentle teasing that missed its mark?
And I don’t write about this because I want it to become a big thing. Quite the opposite. I’m not calling anybody out, including myself. No one needs to apologize, or defend themselves. This was a minor moment, that was weird. I wrote a blog post about it. This is where the story ends, folks.
Now, who wants to see a picture of Humor the Speech Team Whale drink coffee out of a non-penis-shaped straw?

*Which, and I know I said this at the time, but I think it bears repeating:
I went to film school in Pittsburgh, partially at the equipment co-op that was up-and-running by the time Lynch would have been there.
I was in the goddam Twin Peaks Club.
Had Lynch had anything to do with Pittsburgh, at any point, I think I would know.
Hey, it’s a wide state, with a big East-West rivalry. Philadelphia doesn’t count.