Adventures in Internet Conversations or How I Wasted My Saturday Night

After much interspection, foreplanning, and a moment of blind financial terror I decide that it is best that I stay in this weekend. I have to save money for the holidays after all. I have presents to buy for my mother and her husband, and at this point I'm completely clueless. My brother on the other hand is a much easier mark. Atari is releasing a retro console with something like twenty of the old Atari classics preloaded on it. Since my brother's video game skills never progressed past the 2600, I have decided that it will be a welcome change to the usual DVD purchase. The last on the list is my niece. She's only five, so this won't be too hard. Anyway, the thought of all of this, and a glance at my budget has forced me to supress the urge to go to Town Hall tonight. I do, after all, have a new computer to play with.

I start playing Civilization III for the third time about 7:00. I've restarted again, because I was losing. If I can't rule the world, then I don't want to play to the end, goddammit! I eat my grilled fish, steamed green beans, and baked potato while pointing and clicking. Alas, the damn French are so much more advanced than my Greeks, and I haven't even come across any other civilizations yet. I'm not in the mood to lose tonight. I send all of my Greeks into oblivion by exiting without saving. Damn French.

I decide to try something I haven't attempted in a very long time. I'm going to a chat room. That'll pass the time. I'll just talk to some people. I start out in the 20's room. My screen name is quietguy, because I don't always talk. I am not in the room for a minute before a private message pops up.

"hi"

Should I use proper grammar here, does it matter? Just type something dumbass!

"hello."

"full load of fun in my head :) is it fun there?"

What the hell does that mean?

"not yet"

I suck at this.

"i'm so excited :) just agood day 2day. . let chat? :)"

What the hell am I doing?

"ok"

"well. . . 22/f/us here. . you?"

"26/m/chicago"

"yeah. . hmm. . wanna see me on webcam? now? you do not need a cam."

Dammit, this is an ad, isn't it?

"If this is an ad for a cam site, I'm not interested."

Looks like my grammar came back, damn education.

"Lets meet http://grin.dot7.org/members/cintia_ehuer"

I close the message window. Of course the entire time this conversation is occuring more private messages pop up with more links. At least these people don't waste my time pretending that they want to talk. I switch rooms hoping that I can find one with real people in it. But, everytime I hit the same experience. There are a few people actually chatting, but from what they are saying, it sounds like they're a lot younger than I am. Oh well, I tried. I suppose I can attempt to rule the world again.

High Scorer

"I don't get it," She starts "I mean, I don't know why I'm never even considered."

They're at the tiny Mexican restaurant he likes (veggie burrito for him, 2 taco dinner for her, he'll finish her rice and beans later when she gets full), and she's finally broached one of the reasons she suggested dinner tonight. She needs his opinion. Or maybe just his validation.

"I'm attractive enough, I'm smart, I'm funny. And I'm totally cool. Like, I don't freak out like the other girls, I don't bitch when someone's too busy to see me...I don't act all needy and shit. And yet they never even think about me." She toys a dribble of salsa over some rice. "I feel like I'm the pinch hitter. Like, I'm a really great pinch hitter. I always knock it out of the park. But no one ever picks me to start a game."

"What exactly is it you're looking for?" He asks.

"I don't know. I mean, I'm not saying I need to "play a whole game," but it'd be nice if someone would at least think about me playing a couple of innings. I don't understand why that's so inconceivable. Maybe it's just an ego thing. I don't necessarily want to play the whole game, but I want somebody to want me to."

They focus on their dinner for a while, discussing other things in their lives. Plans to join the Peace Corps or go to Europe, difficulties with her job, the girl from San Francisco that's coming to visit him over Thanksgiving.

As he finishes off her second taco and starts on the rice and beans (she wasn't as hungry as she thought), she returns to the subject.

"Is it me? What am I doing wrong?" She twists a thin paper napkin into a mangled clump.

"Well, it's like this...No one is going to draft you when they think you're gonna quit the team as soon as they make you an offer."

She sits quietly a moment. "That makes sense," she says. They begin collecting the detritus of their meal, loading it back onto the plastic tray to deposit in the bin by the door. They stroll silently into the cold autumn mist, and he walks her to the bus stop.

"Thanks," she says "That was nice." "Yeah, I'll see you on Thursday" (at the Thanksgiving party where she'll meet the girl who's coming to visit him). "Be careful," he says, as he hugs her goodbye.

The bus is nearly empty, and she sits unseeing, thinking about what he said. She feels like there's a decision to be made, but she doesn't know what it is. When the bus halts two stops before the one that would take her home, she gets off. She walks two blocks to the bar where they know her, where she spends most of her nights.

She sits alone at the bar, chatting occasionally with the bartender. Ignoring the guy that ignored her first. During her second gin and tonic, she smiles at a boy ordering a drink. "I like your tattoo," she says, running her finger down his bicep. She leans back and gives him a look that's as much a challenge as enticement. In a few hours she'll lie sleepless, staring at the boy's ceiling and wonder if she's made a decision or not.

Batter up.

Unsolicited Chicken Slogans for Frankel

"The Chickening"

"Bride of Chicky"

"Dawn of the Drumette"

"The Rocky Horror Chicken Show"

"Army of Darkmeat"

"The Crunch-iestchickenstripseveroryourmoney-Back of Notre Dame"

"The Henhouse on Haunted Hill"

"Plan 9 (piece nugget meal) from Outer Space"

"Chicken of the Corn" alt "Children of the Corn-fed, farm fresh, organically raised Chicken"

"Sometimes They Come Back...For more delicious chicken strips!"

"White Meat on Elm Street"

"Bram Roaster's Dracuchicken"



More to come later, I'm sure. Whether I want to or not.

Shot Down

I know the drill.
I even have a helmet.
However, for some reason I keep trying,
hoping,
that I will find that one diamond in the barren sand.

Yet again I find myself brooding over what might have been.
What signs did I miss?
Is my judgement just this bad?
Why can't I find what so many have?

The old cliche skips in my head:
"Hope springs eternal."
Yet I find myself at the bottom of the well.