Assuagement
2005-06-30 8:18 a.m.
This is the 3rd time he had to swerve out of the left lane and this time there was oncoming traffic. He grabbed the wheel out of his lap and centered himself in his own lane. For a moment he thought about the voice activated GPS Walt showed him a couple months ago. �Who the hell puts a touch dial on a pocket music device?� His thoughts wandered towards the pretentious assbags who unequivocally worship Apple, now with their golden heifer that holds more music than the music industry could possibly release with any sort of quality given ANY stretch of time.�Those snooty fuckers are gonna get me killed! Great industrial design my ass!� Although the design flaw was actually an issue for him, it was merely a scapegoat to conceal his twisted stomach tightening from the tension. The reason he�d been having such trouble with the music selection is because he had no idea what she listened to.
�I Listen to everything, my ass! � nobody listens to everything!� God damn the generalities of meeting someone. He needed detail and he needed it right now. Who in their right mind could guess the perfect music to have on the first time they meet somebody? Should it be chill? Maybe something hard? Some soft emotional rock bullshit? No no, he would shoot himself long before he arrived. �Come on fuckhead, you�re a dj� this shouldn�t be so painful.�
While switching lanes, he glanced into the rear view mirror to make sure he had room. A couple hairs were standing on end and the shadow of them from the headlights behind reminded him that he hadn�t had a haircut in a month. �Fuck, I�m such a mess. Ok, Ok, I�m living out of a suitcase, being a mess is fine.� He thought back upon his strange moments in hair salons in New York, sitting amongst the incredibly vein appreciating the free cut by a talented hand holding $400 scissors.
�A woman�s voice. It has to be a woman�s voice.� The music has to be soothing. A constant tempo to keep the heart rate at pace, but soft and smooth to allow good conversation. He flipped to �genre�, glanced at the road and back down - scrolled through soul� hm� r&b� no, no heartbreak and fucking � what if she�s nuts? Aquanote! He remembered the night Robert put him on to it. It was the night he threw a bar b q on Robert�s roof for his birthday. At the end of the night, everyone stoned and wasted, just chilling in the humble and dark room listening to Aquanote rambling on about younger days.
�Yeah, that was a good vibe. We were wasted, but the conversation was steady.� His mind wandered wondering if they all still talked. Did they still meet up every week for happy hour like the past couple months? Did they even notice he�d left? Did they � �fuck, where was that exit? Ah, there we go��
His shoulders unraveled a bit form the very chill beat bouncing off the neighborhood walls as he drove on. But there was so much more to tackle. �What will we talk about? How can we fill the gaps? What if she�s hideous? What if she�s gorgeous? What if I�m hideous? What if I'm broke and boring? What if she slits my throat and steals my ipod? What if she slips me something and ass rapes me with her vast collection of tribal hunting spears?� His silly paranoid confusion screeched to a halt along with the two front tires as he noticed the red light a couple seconds too late. �Stay focused, dickhead!�
While tapping his brakes to the beat he noticed the clock on the dashboard. �Holy shit, I�m on time.� Punctuality made him even more nervous. He hadn�t been on time for anything in at least 4 years, the fact that he is now says something that he�s not sure he wanted to acknowledge. �Jesus, why are you so fucking raveled up? Calm down, loser, you haven�t even really met her yet.� As the light flipped green he slammed the gas in anticipation. �Get a grip you silly fucker or you�ll be really late. Just friendly conversation� Meeting some chick� no big deal.�
The jolt was soothing. A decent smack to the face to calm the moment. His fingers finally loosened. He looked around trying to remember the directions he wrote on the matchbook he just dropped between the seats. �Fuck, which street was that? Way to look like a bumbling idiot... calling for directions AGAIN.� He dug between the seats, contorting his fingers as much as he could. �Nickel� pen cap� miscellaneous paper� umm.. beef jerky?� ah! Matchbook� if� I� could... just�� � �Oh hey Sara, just letting you know I�m about 5 minutes away. See you in a few!� � �Too chipper, get a grip you fag.�
He finally gripped the matchbook between his middle and pointing finger steadily raising it in the hopes of getting past the armrest. The scribbles were of some ancient hieroglyph that couldn�t have possibly come from his hand. �Make a right where? Fuck. Ok, I think I remember what I wrote down.� He pictured the mapquest layout in his head and did his best to envision the overhead view of the intersection he�d just passed through. �Right!� His car nearly fishtailed as he cut the lane to the right realizing he�d found the street.
�And then a left� and a right� another block down� fuck.. is that it? What the hell was the address?� He glanced at the matchbook again. �What kind of asshole doesn�t write down the address to where he�s going?� He called up and asked Sara to come down hoping he was in front of the right house. Such a poorly lit street - the trees hid the streetlights so well� He pictured himself from outside the car, barely seeing his profile among the shadows, with a faint glow from the radio and dashboard. It seemed so uninviting. He pictured a silly version of himself, bobbing his head, pumping his breaks to the beat. �Hey baby, get in, let�s get the fuck outa here.� He laughed at himself for a moment and suddenly felt a little more at ease. �Just some chick� right? You nervous fucking bastard! Get ahold of yourself!�
�Maybe I�ll get out of the car.� He swung the door open, hoping she wouldn�t get to her front door before he figured this out. �Right� out of the car. And then� I�ll� um� I�ll lay across the hood and flaunt my nipples�. Ok dickhead, be serious� um� ok.. hands in pockets� unassuming look� smile� oh fuck, no, don�t smile� bad smile� um� nice guy face� yes, nice guy face ready to smile when I say hello. Hello? Hmm� Good Evening miss lady� ha, stupid� What up bebeh� ok stop fool� um��
He noticed her walking down the stairs through the hallway window. He couldn�t see her well but he was relieved that he was at the right place. He leaned on his hands against the car to hide his awkwardness as the silhouetted figure left the hallway. He watched the leaf-scattered street light illuminate her face as she closed in. �Don�t drop your jaw dumbass, so what if she�s cute.� It hadn�t occurred to him that she might be this attractive. He forgot everything. What music? What car? What� um� name? Oh� fuck� Sara! �Hey sara! � that�s gay� um� hello� hello is good. Kiss on the cheek? Yeah, I think so. Be warm, not sleazy. Easy for you to say, you�re just a voice in my head� ok shut up shut up she�s almost across the street.�
He didn�t even think to smile � it just appeared on his face, genuinely. She smiled back� Everything else evaporated�
�Hi Sara, it�s a pleasure to finally meet you.�