muckefuck | Where the boys are (Reply)

It was a good evening out, but not what I'd expected. I got invited over by a friend with a pool on Sheridan, so I suggested burgers at Big Chicks first. I was there right at six; with ten minutes I had my burger and within fifteen I had eaten it. My prospective host showed up and hour-and-a-half later, at the height of the dinner rush. An hour and a half after that, it became clear the impromptu pool party was no longer in the cards.

But it was all fine. I had a lovely conversation with

chifurbuddy, who'd forgotten meeting me before but I suspect won't do that again. And though I saw hardly a single familiar face while waiting for him and the rest of the gang to show up, I managed to amuse myself by chatting away with the doorman, an interesting young transplant from Boston. He wants to keep his German up and I put myself forward as just the person to help him.

It feels good, getting out and being seen a bit more. It's too easy to drop off everyone's radar when you spend too much time at home. And I need some positive feedback from that world if I'm going to keep extending a hand to it; once again, I tried reaching out to some people over the weekend, and once again I've heard nothing. Comme ci, comme ça.