The bar

and Hugo.

I took myself to the bar the other night. I saw my friend Hugo. I'm really struck by him.

To just describe myself... to just do that... well I haven't had a group of friends in a long time. We could identify college as the last time, but even in college I felt that the fact that I did was only because of the set-up of college. When the last semester arrived, we in my group of friends spoke about not being able to call each other up and go to Blockbuster anymore. That did seem like it would be a transition, but I was excited to leave Rochester, not too concerned about the Blockbuster problem because I wanted to drive across the country and be free- I liked my friends but I wasn't in love with them. There was one night I suddenly cried a lot, timed wrong with the night my friends cried a lot. And I was sad driving back to NJ with all my things, especially as I'd had to say goodbye to my roommate, who was one I did love and would miss being so close to. It was nothing a shower didn't pretty much put to bed though- there was a lot of possibility ahead, Los Angeles, where a friend awaited, and sex: I was enthused about sex in LA. (and love, lest you be confused that I was ever any good at that differentiation)

The most important group of friends to me then was still from High School days though, a memory of a group, the friends I met at summer smart camp. This is still that group that I remember such a purity of love for, love that I knew even then I'd always be missing. For me, 14- 17 years old was the time when everything was right for the sensation of discovery, discovery of friendship and love- of delight that I thought people were interesting and wonderful and they thought I was too- which made it so special. It seems to me that in later parts of life, like now, some alcohol facilitates some "hanging out with people" being fun and funny and kind. It is not the same thing by any stretch, but when too isolated, I'll put on some clothes and go to the bar. It's best to bring a book or something because I do not have a best friend in Astoria who is single, available for impromptu bar outings. (sidenote: some people must have this and something about them must be different but I'm not interested enough to figure out what that is. It's obviously elemental and therefore irrelevant.) That this is where I live makes it acceptable however. Because I'd really feel a bit a fool - or it's just too outsize an effort to the casualness of the deisred effect, putting on clothes and makeup and going to sit at a bar alone in Manhattan to see what happens. It has to be Astoria.

The other important element of this discussion is I think that I've been living alone for 5 years, or maybe 6.

So about five years ago, I was in a shittier apartment, but still near the same bar I went to four nights ago. Then as now, I went there from time to time, alone. It's usually months between visits, then and now. But perhaps five years ago, there were probably months where I went more than twice, less than five times. I didn't feel "in" with the regulars and I think I did contemplate that thing from the sidenote above- as in, why can I not joke around with these hip bar people? Why am I not a bar regular up to speed with all these freinds? Not excessively though because even then the answer was who knows; I'm just not.

But anyway Hugo lives in Astoria. Hugo's a regular. Hugo's in some kind of pornographically named punk band he only speaks of to relentlessly denigrate . Hugo stops in a few times a night in between doing stuff with musicians and walking dogs.

Five years ago I was wasted and he walked me home to my shithole.

Four nights ago, I was sitting with my book and when Hugo sees me his look of recognition is *so nice*. He comes over and says hi, says goodbye before he goes, asks if i'll still be there in two hours. I was still there two hours later and he's not drinking these days, just drinking tea. But I sat with him and he seemed, well happy to see me. The point of this writing is that there's such uniqueness to this. The point is my struckness, to let you in on the point if you're confused. Hugo is a funny guy. We were talking about stuff. I asked if he ever wanted kids, knowing the answer, ready to laugh. He said "GOD no - at the most I might like to scotch tape two dogs together and dress them in children's clothes and sneak them into things." ? hahaha.

I said yeah, well, it's really nice to see you too and I like this bar because I don't have a go-to friend in Astoria so I just come here alone and it's always sort of okay, but I'm not a regular, I'm not a regular anywhere. Hugo was like "That's so true! I've never seen you any way but here alone!" He then said it was kind of awesome, that for all he knew I murder people by day. He asked if I don't really have female friends. I told him no not at all, I primarily have female friends, but they don't live here. We made plans to go to Macy's the next day.

I texted in the morning and no one wanted to go to Macy's but he texted back asking if I sing and then sending me this song "gee baby" to listen to and we texted back and forth about it and later I met him, which meant two days in a row, at the bar to drink tea. I only had a credit card: while I looked for it, he looked at me like what's-wrong-with-you and asked if I thought he couldn't buy me a tea. I wasn't trying to offend him of course. I'm sure he can afford to buy me the tea. It appears that actually, the concept of a friend has become so abstract and unreal that I feel, basically, a thousand times more awkward having a cup of tea with a funny friend than being hit on- as is, I think universally, what happens between me and a male at a bar any other given time. I mean not always hit on, but the gist of the possibility of a conversation, underlying it, me and any male, would be either that we're becoming attracted to each other in a way that's going to maybe mean sexual congress, or we're just wasting time with words for lack of any other place to put our attention, not becoming friends. We are not now or becoming friends. Except me and Hugo.

It's very cold here in New York this week. I asked Hugo to walk me home. He said yeah but could he get his headphones from his place first because he has this "attention span thing", he "can't stand to be quiet with his thoughts" such as he would be alone on the walk back. I laughed and said "Do you want to talk about that more?"

When we got here, I said he could come up if he liked, but he didn't, wanted to start an early day the next day. it was much the way he seemed totally reluctant to end up at my apartment extendedly when we first met five years ago when he walked my wasted ass home.

This morning he texted to ask if I've seen a certain werewolf movie. I have not and I (not he) suggested watching it sometime. My point is this is the uniquest thing I know. A male friend. I like it so much. And of course, if he continues to be the only non-sleaze in NYC I know who behaves this way, it'll be the most romantic thing I know as well.

It all reminds me of a zine KFR's first girlfriend made and sent me in high school before they broke up and etc. It was an illustrated guidebook of ways to get your crush to be more than a crush. Suggested things to say each got an illustrated page. The page I remember was "Wanna come over and watch Star Wars?"

My point is that at 30, one of the things that pleases me most in this world is being given the respect, for lack of a better word, I was given once by contemporary boys of 15, 16, and 17 years old. The lack of presumption, the absence of an obvious strategy, even strategy hinted at with irony - the irony doesn't change the unoriginality and unspecialness of what it implies.

When I graduated from college, adult hitting on seemed like it was going to be a pretty good time. From my vantage point now, it turns out I really just want to be asked if I wanna watch Star Wars more than anything.

love you,
Alexis