massive nights pt. 2

Rolling out of bed is easy when sleep doesn’t come at you hard and fast. The Sandman has been like the fat kid in a doge ball game recently. Early Saturday morning in the over plush bed of the Dallas Renaissance my mind ducked and dived from his slumberous barrage and I kind of just tiptoed along that line that is somewhere between the plot of whatever infomercial was left on the TV and my own dreamy bemusing. The thing about dreams that suck- and I mean proper suck- is that you can’t control them. Things happen so randomly yet almost with such purpose and conviction one would think they actually mean something.

My dream on this night in particular? A very weird opus involving somebody I used to know from church, breast implants, assault on said implants with a fork and a hot air balloon chase. Believe me when I say it was more comical and slapstick than macabre as it might first sound. Would I ever choose to dream this? Probably not, but where did it come from? I am not a student of the science of sleep nor am I even inclined to start a study on it. I can wiki it if you would like, but I will not discuss it. I hate that sub-par subterranean subconscious subversive succubus of my slumber that sulks and soils my innermost sanctum with a serpentine scrutiny. I hate that it pulls me into thoughts that I do not want.

Luckily, the breast implant caper had nothing to do with anything in the same vein as I have currently been privy to. It was just a dream. Harmless at best.

After check out we found ourselves on the way to meet James and Ashlee Henley for lunch at a burger joint back on the Lower Greenville side of town. My friendship with James is as close to a “love at first sight” type situation as you can get. I think that we both just heard about each other from people who knew us and then when we met the connection was there. James has a passion for technology and music that keeps him absolutely relevant in a position where it has been so very easy to become irrelevant. I am proud to know him.

Ashlee is the perfect partner.

Lunch was a break in between mouthfuls of stories about camp and new jobs and the sadder things in life. You know it is good company when the meal takes a back seat. When we parted it was too soon and I hope to steal the Henleys off to my city sometime in the future- but we made no plans. Plans are an empty motion before an ever changing landscape. If I may be cliché and simple and a little bit trite- they are much like promises; made to be obliterated.

The long trip home took Davin and I by the Dell Diamond in Round Rock, TX. Home of the Round Rock Express, the Dell Diamond is a very well kept minor league ball park that is usually good for a nice evening of about 7 and a half innings. This evening- the score was 9 to 1 and though we rooted, the home team wasn’t winning- shame. I felt very bad about showing up late and leaving early to this game. My brother Russel- as much as James was love at first sight, Russel was just always in my family even though I didn’t know it until a few years ago- invited us to the game and I felt like our busy weekend detracted from that bonding time. The best thing about Russ though? There will be another time. I am pretty sure Russ and I have forever to attend baseball games and drink heavily into the night- and the one who goes first will just get an early start on the other in the bye and bye- where we will start it all over again.

Night time saw us heading downtown toward the center of the city. At this moment Dr. Haley and I were in the company of two young ladies who wanted to see a good time- and as awkward as it sounded I elected Davin to the task of helping them accomplish this. It was like asking a fish to jump through a fiery hoop and then make a ham sandwich. The best part of the evening probably equates to the best time I have every had “downtown” on the rooftop of Maggie May’s with Sports Center on a 90ft screen showing Yankees highlights this awful cover band starts playing Van Morrison’s “And it Stoned Me”. At this point- and after a tequila shot and one too many beers- I grabbed one of our companions and started to dance. I don’t know if it was the heat of the moment or the sheer force of my will but she complied and soon we were swaying back and forth under a starry sky on a roof top in the towering light of the Frost Bank tower and Derek Jeter’s face. While that was good- the part I am labeling the best came next.

Davin Don(n) Haley, betwixt the awful cover that seemed to grow sweeter every bar and the heavy atmosphere of that roof top club had a manicured hand thrust in his face and the words “Dance with me” slurred in his direction. My heart leaped from my chest in excitement that must have been so intense my partner noticed that I was no longer gravitating in her direction, but the direction of the good doctor’s situation. We both looked on as Davin, without missing a beat, put both hands up in refusal and said “No.”

My jaw hit the ground. Hard.

The rejection hit me harder than it hit the persistent inquirer and she got up from her perch on the steps to approach him a second time. Almost jumping the gun I yelled “Dance with her retard!” and this prompted some encouragement from a few people who had been looking on.

They danced. Awkward and remorsefully Davin secured his hand to her shoulders and she clung on to him probably half from falling over. But they danced. I was so taken by the moment I only half noticed my partner singing the lyrics to the song that she didn’t even know when it started.

And it stoned me to my soul
Stoned me just like jelly roll
And it stoned me

Finally, at 4:00am we settled down for the night and sleep hit me out of nowhere with one of the big red balls. I was out.

let it run all over me


~ by mlvassallo on August 21, 2007.

2 Responses to “massive nights pt. 2”

  1. Yo, it be Davin Donn Haley with two n’s. Nothing normal with my names c’mon. Plus dancing with drunken women is mos def not my specialty…now if we were bee-essing into the night about existential pursuits or postmodern dramadies i would have excelled. Clubs and the infantilism that accompany there confines will never be my bag… Boozing for fun via attention is a tad ridiculous. Oh our world of excesses and boring souls. hahaha

    Anyways, Seattle Mariners tickets for any game this weekend free courtesy of my boy Yniguez… i’m going regardless. Let me know if you are in.

  2. First off- Mariners tickets. Hell yes. I’ll call you.

    Secondly- get over yourself. You had fun a little bit. And if not? Lie to me.

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