2001-11-17 - 3:16 a.m.

Just got back from Karaoke. Wasn't like I thought it would be. As usual, I overanalyzed it beforehand (so that I would be prepared), and then nothing happened like I thought it would.

Thank God!

Saw a buddy's apartment for the first time, saw husband and wife team Karaoke "DJs" that reminded me of the music teachers cum "performers" on Saturday Night Live, saw a bizarre yet very normal night--nothing really that special but at the same time something I can't quite put into words.

Saw my friend off. Saw him for the last time. Sad.

My soon to be departing buddy lingered too long for us to catch the train (as he should have). We had to snag a cab from Malden back into the city. I let him pay. It was almost $20. Oops.

When we got to Government Center, my buddy and I said our last goodbyes. We had already said goodbye five or six times that day, and he had a big goodbye party a few days ago, so that real last goodbye was a smooth one. He had a train to catch. I had already missed mine.

Fortunately, the MBTA now has busses that run the train routes from "last train time" until 2:30am. They run every half-hour. Unfortunately, I just missed one. Had a conversation with a very pretty racist southern chick. Very friendly. The whole time I had to pee like a Belgian statue. (It put a "damper" on things.) It amazed me that a girl could be Southern AND pretty, or pretty AND racist. Southern and friendly I get. Racist and friendly? Girl and racist and friendly AND pretty? It was pretty weird. She liked the Cure (!). She got excited when I mentioned Uncle Tupelo. She hates James Dickey because of "that book and all it did to us." I don't know why, but we hit it off (that is, I talked to someone who wanted to talk with me, regardless of my level of interest). We both really, really, really had to go to the bathroom. It was a dominating, if mercifully unspoken (usually), theme.

It was nice to meet her. I don't know why.

She got off two stops before me. I told her that it was nice to meet her. On the walk home from the T-stop, I bought some smokes, holding back the temptation of asking the overcharging bastards if I could use their bathroom. I already knew the answer anyway. Two ex-club kids asked me for change for a dollar 'cause they needed to use a pay-phone. I gave them two quarters and took the crumpled, seedy dollar, feeling savvy.

When I got home, I peed for five minutes. I felt so good afterward.