The Roulette Wheel

Ok. My weekend started a little early. Let me explain. I've been working for AFI Dallas for the last week. Monday I stacked some pamphlets. Tuesday I wrote a letter to John Legiuzamo. Wednesday I helped organize all the plane flights in and out. I've seen and talked to celebrity after celebrity. I've seen six festival movies at this point and been to at least three parties. I have parties every night down here and I even had an interesting happening Thursday night. Let's talk about that as I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.

So I'm at the original Nieman Marcus downtown at this party. It's pretty cool and it starts to wind down. I'm saying goodbye on my way out at about 1am. This beautiful woman I had been helping out earlier in the evening smiles at me and asks the question I have never been asked in such a way. "What are you doing RIGHT NOW?" "um...are you kidding? I'm a single teacher. I'm doing whatever you have in mind!" So she wants to go to another party. Fair enough. So we start collecting people. Then we stand around for about half an hour and we lose all those people. Now it's me, some gorgeous chick who looks like Lisa Lobe but with black hair, some 19 year old kid and his dad. How can I go wrong right? Right.

Well...we head off to an after party for the fashion show that's at Northpark last week. It's sucky...but I have my new buddies with me so everything is alright. This chick (who will remain nameless) gets pretty drunk and after a bit of reassurance I get her to agree that I should take her home. The other two guys are both pretty drunk too and I offered to take them home but they, of course, weren't having it. So she's so drunk that I have to hold her up for the entire block and a half to get to my car. Detail: On the way back to the car she tells me she's smitten with me. First things first on this one: best expression for liking someone ever. Second things second: I tell her I'm smitten by her as well. She brushes it off...in a drunk sort of way like trying to cross the street with cars coming. We get to the car and she keep poring compliments on me. I try, desperately, to chalk them up to drunk-chick. I fail. We FINALLY get back to her place. I had no idea where she lived and she kept falling asleep so it took a little bit. We finally get there and I all but have to carry her. After getting in her building it takes a LONG time to get to her room. So at a certain point I just carry her. We get to her door. She goes in. I go in. She flops down on the bed and says, "don't go...stay...". She's asks this like...oh...6 times during the course of getting her shoes off and getting her a glass of water. Very hard to resist. But then she asks: "why?" "Because if I stay I'm not a gentleman anymore. Trust me...I want to stay...but I can't."

Retrospect? I should have stayed and just not touched her. Slept on the couch or something...but it was 3 in the morning, and I was on south Lamar...and I had to wake up to teach in 3 hours. But I wrote my number on her hand, and on a piece of paper.

It's now three days later and I'm home from the weekend's latest party. I hadn't seen her or heard from her for days. She never called. But she was at the party. Gave me a hug. Thanked me for taking care of her...and that was it. She didn't remember anything she said. She didn't remember anything we talked about. She didn't even remember me coming into her apartment and asking me to stay. On my way out? She was outside talking to your stereotypical burly, rich thirty-something. I said "call me sometime!" "I'm not going to call you." "Well at least you're honest." "I'm always honest.".....right...

Seriously. I swear to god. If anyone ever asks me why I don't drink, please reference this story. People have one, two, more, they say shit they don't mean and it hurts. Maybe not immediately, maybe three days later when you finally see each other again. Whatever the time whatever the should-have-known-better, whatever the reason. It hurts. I don't drink because I never want to make someone feel the way I feel right now and not even know it. Fuck.

Tommy "Fucking, Mister Should-Have-Known-Better" Schubert