Project MERCATOR | Project PANDORA
…cont'd from Wayback Machine…

The surprise of the evening (Friday, 3 June) was Farr Afield's partner in crime, The Redhead. I'd seen her at many a Loose Ties gig & we'd chatted a bit here & there, but we'd never had a proper conversation. She planted herself at our table & played a few games of hangman with Nick Andopolis & Ska Army, & we chatted a bit. Rather out of the blue, she asked if I was going to see X-Men: First Class. I replied that I had no specific plans, "but I'm a huge dork; so, I'm sure I'll see it." Without any particular conscious thought I added, "We should see it sometime." She then invited me to join her & some pals for a screening on the approaching Sunday (5 June). I assented & the ball was set to rolling.

The Loose Ties were the last of that night's trio of bands. During the set, I skanked up a storm as is my custom (&, since I've been designated the Super Fan, something of a duty); I extended a hand to The Redhead, she having quit as I did our table on the mezzanine & seated herself upon a stool at the junction of the tiny dance floor & the bar, at the beginning of one of the band's two slow songs & she accepted readily. This was not a serious slow dance, not with me having already skanked up the aforementioned storm. Later, as I stood on the sidelines taking a breather she swiped a finger along my belly, urging me back to the dance floor. I rejoined the effort & we skanked the night away. With the set finished & the night winding down, I aided in conveying Nick Andopolis's drums to his motorcar, park next door to the Soggy Bottom. In time I was joined by The Redhead, Nick Andopolis, & Jameson, the bass player (I really must devise code names for the rest of The Loose Ties). The Redhead assumed station next to me & teasingly groused about the "beer baby" in her stomach. I placed my left hand on her shoulder & my right on her stomach & pretended to feel the "baby" kick. I walked her back to the entrance of the bar; I'd had long day & was tired & dehydrated from all the skanking, & I wanted to call it a night. But there was at least some connection twixt The Redhead & me over the course of the evening & I wished to acknowledge that in some way. I thought it too forward to simply kiss her unbidden, besides which I'd sweated like a Wilson on the dance floor; so, I fell back on the oldest weapon in my arsenal, a trick I've used since I was a wee lad: I kissed her hand. She greeted this was a goofy smile & them returned the gesture in kind, jerking my hand into her face with inadvisable force. The next day she reported via the FaceSpace that she'd given herself a bloody nose. O the splendors of libations!

Sunday came & with it the opportunity of accompanying her to a screening of X-Men: First Class. She rang my mobile, having gotten my number from Nick Andopolis, & proposed a time to meet at the cinema. Not too much later she sent a text message informing me that the time had been moved, we were to attend a later screening to accommodate with the most ease the largest number of potential attendees. I know how that goes; so, I was unperturbed. A little while & some apologies for the indecision of her friends later & the meeting was changed again to the original screening. I was, as is my regrettable custom, running a tad late; so, upon my arrival at the cinema I rang her to inform her of my arrival. The call went to voicemail &, as the last apparently believer in that technology, I left her a message. My concern was that she might have already seated herself in the theater & deactivated or silenced her mobile as a courtesy to others. I purchased my ticket & took up a watch in the lobby. I ran into the Anonymous Friend, whom I had not seen in quite a long time, as he was meeting up with a group of friends. When they went into the theater I followed, suspecting that The Redhead & company might already have taken their seats. I saw so sign of her, but that might have been solely due to the darkness (by this point the coming attractions were already running). I assumed a seat close to the exit, resigned to hooking up with her party once the film ended.

No sooner had I sat down than my mobile began to vibrate in my pocket. I saw The Redhead's name in the caller ID. & answered in hushed tones; she apologized for having not yet arrived, she was just pulling into the parking lot. I abandoned my seat & walked out to the lobby to meet her. She soon appeared in the ticket line, accompanied by her younger sister (I'd guess late middle school or early high school). Whilst in line she fielded a call from a friend who was meant to join us, but who had gone to the Trillium Cinema in Grand Blanc instead of the Courtland Cinema (in where? Burton? Flint Township? A number of miles distant from Grand Blanc). So, it was to be we three. We missed a little pit of the picture, no more than a few moments, but I cannot be more precise until I see the film again on D.V.D. The Redhead sat between her sister & your humble narrator, & she looked lovely in a blue summer dress, but with the younger girl there as chaperone there was nothing to do but simply sit back & enjoy the picture. When the picture was concluded & The Redhead & I were waiting in the lobby for her sister to use the W.C., The Redhead apologized for her sister's presence, but it had been unavoidable. Such things happen, I assured her, now more confident in the belief that I was not the only one who'd viewed the outing as a chance for something more than just a friendly evening about town.

I would like to have acted quickly to have seen her again, but the following weekend was the 24 Heures du Mans. As I wrote at the time, "Le Mans is far more important than making time with a long-legged redhead. Comely lasses come & go, but Le Mans is forever." Think me a madman if you wish, but I stand by those words. The following weekend I was presented with dueling social, to a bonfire hosted by the Action Hero & to see Green Lantern with a group organized by The Impossible Ingenue. I chose the movie as soon as I realized this would be a perfect opportunity to see The Redhead again. I invited her to join "a group of indeterminate size" & she quickly accepted the invitation. A couple hours later The Ingenue informed me that we'd be going to a different showing than originally planned, later in the evening & in vile 3-D. No sooner had I passed the change in plans & my apologies for same onto The Redhead than The Ingenue texted back that the original plan was again in effect. Maddening idiocy. By this time The Redhead wrote of her regrets, but she would have to back out of the venture, reasonably citing the early hour at which she had to be at work the following day. I extracted from her several laughs & the promise of a rain check. In any event, I think it for the best that The Redhead was not in attendance. The film was wretched, one of those true wastes of time when you realize that on your deathbed you'll want those hours of your life back; The Impossible Ingenue & The Most Dangerous Game were at their annoying, immature worst, shrieking over the P.G.-13 pornography of Ryan Reynolds like the children they truly are. I cut my loses & said my goodbyes at the first opportunity. All things considered, I'd have rather been in Philadelphia.

I made no effort to see The Redhead last weekend because with my parents away visiting The Squeak & her parents in the District of Columbia I reverted to hermit mode, eschewing all company bu the limited-time offers of The Guy & The Gal. My hope is that the poolside Fourth of July wingding being organized by Farr Afield's boyflesh will furnish me with the opportunity I seek to make a lasting impression on the lass.