The New Sense

Sunday, June 16, 2002

So, we did go to the tam-tams. B— had already heard about it from his former roommate. He took to it like a fish to water. (What a boring metaphor (speaking of which!) — fish don't even have to 'take' to water — they're already in it.) He took to it like a dreadlocked teenager to pot. Maybe I got that one from the tam-tam atmosphere…
He joined in a hackey sack game. He was fucking amazing! I mean, the other guys playing were good — they obviously play every week — but B— was unbelievable. He looked like a pro playing against amateurs; doing tricks, flipping it over his head, spinning and controlling the sack when he seemed to have missed it. He was, as jocks say, in the zone.
He already told me that he was good at football, but I had kind of dismissed it from my mental image of him because he's so not a jock. Now I can see why he must have been good. His eye and balance are phenomenal. It wasn't like he was showing off, either. You see that a lot at the tam-tams, but the difference is that the show-offs always over-extend themselves and try some wild move which fails. B— never fucked up. In fact, I would go so far as to say that he is the Michael Jordan of hackey sack. The other players applauded him when he stopped playing, and they were being very sincere. I felt like I was dating the college quarterback for a fleeting moment. That's if a college team was made up of guys with dreads, piercings, tattoos, weird facial hair and second hand clothes.
At the end of the afternoon the sky started to look menacing, with a few rumblings in the distance. We got back home just in time, as a huge thunderstorm paid us a visit.
Had a quiet evening in. He's not a bad cook for a 20 year-old guy. Doesn't seem to know many recipes, but is good at the ones he knows.
Holy shit! I just realised I'm late. I'm never late. Oh, fuck.

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posted by Sara