I am certain I have already told you that ...friend lives downtown, which is kind of exciting because he's right there conveniently located to shops, restaurants, bars and crime. He's not on the first floor, but you can hear people walking past, and the other day we heard this woman on the phone. "I am just not attRACted to you anymore!" she screeched. You have no idea how bad we wanted to chase after her to hear the rest of her phone call.
My point is, if I am ever at his house we can say, "Let's go somewhere!" and five seconds later there we are. At somewhere. The other night we went to a restaurant right across the street, and the hostess said, "If I seat you upstairs, you should know there's a live band" and we were all, "Oh, okay," all affable, and then it was the loudest jazziest band you ever heard and you wanted to shove a saber down the throat of the singer and swirl it around repeatedly.
At laaaa-aaaaaaa-aaaaaa-oooooo-uuuuuu-aaaaaa-sssst! OW! My looooooo-oooooo-ooooo-vve has come alongggggggg! Oh, shut up. If you start scatting it will be the last thing you ever do.
But that story is not why I gathered you here today. Today I wanted to tell you that on Friday night, ...friend and I decided to mosy over to this kind of pub near him, and when we sat down in a booth I glanced over at the bar, and there?
At the bar?
Was the midcentury modern guy.
Also? Since yesterday I linked to Jo's book and then someone left a comment saying, "How do we see Jo's book," I feel like I have to point out that when the text, up there, is a DIFFERENT COLOR, it means it's a link, which you can click on, and I would further like to point out that even my MOTHER knows that, so yeah.
But in case you are off to perform a tracheotomy and have no time to click my link ("Ooo, I really should cut that person's windpipe open pretty soon, but first, how're things going over at Bye Bye, Pie?"), there's a guy downtown who owns a midcentury modern furniture store, and he is impossibly beautiful and plus also British. And there? At that pub the other night? There he was, in personal.
(Once someone wrote me a letter from prison, after he'd seen my picture in my hometown paper, and said, "I'd like to get to know you in personal, June." Oh, would you? Would you? God, that's tempting. What are your visiting hours?)
When I saw midcentury beautiful man, I did the only polite thing, which was to grab ...friend's arm and go, "OhmygodOhmygodOhmygod! It's midcentury guy!"
...friend could not be less impressed with that guy, who I idiotically told him about, like, nine seconds after we met. "I live downtown," ...friend said, and I was all, "Oh, do you ever go to that midcentury furniture store near you? The guy who owns it is impossibly beautiful."
Why did I do that? Why can't I keep my trap shut? And even more depressing? If MBM (midcentury beautiful man) actually ever noticed that I exist, and if he ever actually decided to go for smart-ish rather than physically perfect women, I wouldn't even be tempted to say yes. THAT is how smitten I am with ...friend, and I kind of hate myself. Because there is a large possibility of MBM falling for me in a big way.
This was in evidence on Friday when he LOOKED RIGHT AT ME with not a flicker of recognition. Or maybe he had total recognition because he's seen this blog and thinks I'm a freak.
"I really don't get what's so great about that guy," said ...friend, who really doesn't get what's so great about that guy. A few weeks ago? When I was in Saginaw? I visited my old friend AnnNanandAmy--who is married and has 16 kids and who reads my blog when she's not tracheotomizing people--and she said, "Did you ever link to a photo of midcentury man? Is he really that good-looking?"
So I went online and dredged up a a photo of MBM, and right there in front of her husband and 14 of her children, she screeched and carried on and eventually we had to stick a comb in her mouth to stop her from swallowing her tongue.
"OH MY GOD!" she kept yawping. Which is all to say ...friend doesn't know from cute men.
And that is pretty much all I have to tell you about that. Do you think there's anyone in town who gets excited when they have June sightings? "Oh, I saw that hair woman again! She was at Target! It was so swoony!" And then they rush home and blog about it. You think that happens??