Thursday, November 26, 2009

Mediocrity

Diamond couldn't get a date. He was convinced it was because his name was Diamond. No girl would want to fuck someone named Diamond. He was sure there was some kind of humiliation in that. He imagined how a conversation between two girl friends would go:
Sheila: I fucked a guy named Diamond last night.
Meredith: His name was Diamond? That's embarrassing. You shouldn't tell anyone that.
Sheila: I'll take it to my grave.
Meredith: Diamond. (haha). The poor bastard.
He wished that Joan dumped him for his name. Unfortunately, it was more than that.
Diamond had what he liked to call: chronic laziness syndrome. He committed to events, made elaborate plans but would never end up going through with them. He liked the idea of going out and doing things but he couldn't force himself to do it. He preferred the comfort of his own home, putting his feet up on his leather ottoman, relaxing and watching something mindless on TV. He liked food that could be delivered to him – he wished that life was a 24 hour delivery service. He liked how he lived in an era of convenience. Bring it on, he always said. Bring on technological advancements. Bring on robots we can use as slaves. Anything to make life easier.
Joan was more of a doer. She never said no to anything that anyone invited her to, unless there was a conflict. Even then, she did her best to make it to everything. This was probably because Joan was mediocre at everything she ever tried to pursue. She was never terrible at anything, she just didn't excel. She figured if she could take on everything and be okay at it, at least that was something.
Joan and Diamond were opposites. And that opposites attract bullshit that people tell you simply isn't true. Diamond dated her simply out of convenience (big surprise). She lived on the floor below him in his building and she smelled like Thai Green Curry all the time. Diamond liked this. They both shared an intimate obsession for Thai food, it was the only common interested they shared.
Joan was growing tired of crippling loneliness. She hadn't had a boyfriend in years and she figured she should settle, because that's what the people all around her were doing.
It lasted three months. Surprisingly long for two polar opposites. Joan did the dumping. She had lived a life of mediocrity and decided that she should at least excel in one part of her life: her love life. She would rather wait for the right person to come along than to settle with some lazy, unambitious, quasi vagabond with a horrific name.
So she left him. It made certain elevator rides in their building awkward. Diamond missed her as much as he was able to. He mostly missed having the comfort of someone there. Plus, he knew he would never do any better.


Disruption

Cat lady's deodorant didn't last the entire day and she had pretty bad BO for a woman. She hoped this wouldn't put Glen Hansard off when she finally got to meet him. Tonight was the night.
She went to his show in Seattle, and the show in Tacoma, and now he was playing in Vancouver and he needed to know how big of a fan she was.
When he sang the final song, she yelled "I love you Glen, and your toque too," in her squeaky yet masculine voice. He smirked at her, acknowledging her presence. Glen recognized her from the last show. She didn't shut up.
Cat lady continued to yell obscenities at him on stage. He handled her comments well, until she droned on for another ten minutes.
"If you don't mind, I'd like to sing a song now," he said. That quieted her for a moment, but in the middle of the song she started to rush the stage. Security removed her before she could get near Glen.
They escorted her outside and she rummaged through her purse. She forgot to take her blue pill today.