His arm squeezed my ribcage, his cheek pressed against my chest. And, he told me, "I've missed this." ( referring to cuddling with a woman. He told me he hadn't had a girlfriend in two years. With what I know now, I believe it. ) His voice was warm and simple and sweet. There was not a trace of guile in it, or the bottled-up rage that I would much later see that he carried around inside him. For that night, this was all there was. I let it fill me like morphine and lull me into a sweet haze. It's the sort of drug I could live on, but I know better than to think it represents anything substantial or real.
This story comes to an abrupt an admittedly lame ending. But, maybe that was because it had no real plotline to begin with. I'm not sure why it's worth talking about or even thinking about, now. I used to be an adrenaline junkie. I was addicted to feeling that crazy, larger-than-life passion. This was more getting used to and getting attached to someone gradually. It was just an ongoing, incoherent jumble of events.
Recently, I learned something that changes the way I view my entire childhood. And, it actually happened quite innocently. I was reading one of those jokes that were a list of signs that you're from Detroit. I laughed at most of them, since they were so disturbingly true. Then, I came to the one that said, "You thought that Devil's Night was a national holiday."
All I could think was, "Um...it isn't?"
I tried to think back and remember if I've heard anyone from another state mention it. Actually, I couldn't think of anyone. But, somehow this was still hard to accept.
So, I did a google search. One listing came up for a book called "Devil's Night and Other True Tales of Detroit". WTF? Not only does the rest of the country not celebrate it, but they thought it was just some urban legend?
Now, for those of you who don't know, Devil's Night is the night before Halloween that's traditionally for criminal activity and destruction. In the suburbs, this meant that kids would do lame things like toilet paper houses. It was those cool inner-city kids that would burn down houses - just for fun! I used to watch the news in fascination.
But, I don't think it's such a big thing, anymore. Of course, people still talk about it, but I wasn't really worried that kids would annoy me this year.
I did find a few other facts while searching for this. It seems the tradition predates World War II. I wouldn't have expected that. And, it's tied to something similar in Germany, but the German holiday is a lot less sinister. And, as of 2006, the inner-city of Detroit is still the most dangerous place in North America. Oh, I love Wikipedia.
Some people, when they can't sleep, start pacing, or turn on the TV, or maybe, drink warm milk. I write my stream of consciousness until I fall asleep. Then, later I look back and have no idea what I was trying to say. Here's a sample.
A warm hand on the cheek. Bitter brandy at the bottom of a glass. Colors and lights swirl in a delirium. They taunt you and put your mind to sleep. A hand tugs your shoulder and you're swept along.
Daylight. High heels from the night before lying next to your bed. Hair draped over the pillow. There's a teasing hint of vagrant memories lurking inside you. Should you touch them? In a moment, you might be ecstatic or devastated.
Getting dressed, you throw on dark glasses to walk out into the sharp, cold morning sun...or so no one sees your eyes as you slip into the day to day world. You see a variety of faces, some brightly colored, others muted and fading. It's getting harder to remember their names these days. But, you have a friendly greeting for each one.
Then, a door slams shut. You are alone and the flood of emotion can be released. You can remember a whisper, a song, a warm breath on your neck. You can remember the parts that never really happened, but haunted you in your dreams......
( I think that was the point where I finally got sleepy. )
Drunk dialing is always a bad idea. You won't get to finally let out those pent-up feelings. You won't get a chance to form that rare connection you've always wanted, but couldn't get past the facades, ego-trips and emotional barriers that were always in the way. No. What you say will only make sense to you and the bum that lies under the underpass waiting for Jesus to ride by on his tricycle. Scary thing is it might still feel good to you at the time.
Keep in mind that if you're drunk dialing someone to begin with, either you really didn't want to talk to them. Or, they really don't want to talk to you. Either way, you're better off leaving it alone.
What gets into some people the minute they leave your face to face company and get behind a computer screen? I'd really like to know.
Consider Exhibit A, who seemed like a really cool person when I first met him. He was intelligent, charming, and showed no signs of underlying sociopathic tendencies. We had a first date and it was a lot of fun.
As we were leaving, he asked me if I'm on AIM. Well, technically I am, but my sister is the only one who ever really IMs me. No big deal, though. I gave him my screenname. And, this is where it all gets really weird.
So, a few days later I'm online and I get an IM from him. For a few minutes, it's just normal small talk. Then, he starts saying things that are just a little too overtly sexual for someone I just met. And, this is someone who has very good manners in person. I had to blink to make sure I was seeing it right. I would have thought he was drunk, except that it was about 4pm.
I wasn't sure what to think at this point, but I did already have plans to see him, again. I was wary going in, but once again he was fun to be around in person. I saw no signs of the side of him I saw on IM. He can actually follow my ADD-influenced conversation. He agreed with my theory that the only thing that would save our society is if a virus attacked the reproductive systems of stupid people. Stupid people have too many kids. ( I know some really great people who struggle with fertility treatments, while there is no end to the fertility of the people we really don't want breeding. What went wrong with our evolution?) But, even with a smarter society, it would still be difficult to weed out all the little dysfunctions and neuroses. I thought about this as I wondered if this guy really does have two different personalities.
But, I figured that maybe I'd misjudged him. That is until I got the next IM. This one was just worse than the last. I even asked him if he thought it was a little strange that we barely knew eachother and were already talking about such personal things. He told me not really, but that since he was very much a gentleman, he wouldn't just bring something like this up over dinner. Good point. But then, why is it okay online? It doesn't change the fact that he's still saying it. At this point, it doesn't matter if I have fun with him or not. I've just lost too much respect for him.
So, I'm starting to think the internet just makes people weird. Not you, of course, friends and strangers who are reading this. I like you....well, some of you. Or, maybe it's just that people are weird to begin with and the internet helps bring it out. Maybe, you just find out how dysfunctional people really are a little faster. I don't know if this is a good or bad thing. It does help to weed out weirdos before you get too attached. But on the other hand, would there be anyone left? Maybe, the whole reason we get to know people slowly is so that they can hopefully eventually love us despite all the little ways we're just as demented as everyone else. And, in turn we hope that they are not too crazy, but just crazy enough. So, is modern technology a good thing? I haven't decided yet.
