Implosion
The Crush (1)
The Crush (2)
The Crush (3)
Good Advice
Unequal Footing
When Worlds Collide
Crushing Irony
Karma, Baby
X Man
The Woolies
clare Carver
Dot Com Dance
Encourage Saint X
Disparage Saint X
D A T E L I N E U P D A T E : X Man
Sunday, July 29
Thursday I met a woman for drinks. (I was told I could identify her by her "unnaturally red hair.") I was not especially surprised that the evening went well because we had already traded a number of interesting e-mails. She asks good questions and has a perceptive take on the world. What surprised me was that things went SO well she invited me, on the spot, to a party at her apartment on Saturday night.
Although her distribution list did exceed the one The Swinger sent out for her recent happy hour - by some 1,554 guest as it happens (it was in part a fundraiser for local nonprofits; she's on the board of something or other; yet another save-the-world type, I know; still don't understand why that keeps popping up) - at least Red sent me a personal note with the details. Have I mentioned she lives 167 paces down the street from me?
Theme for the party: Superheroes. Costumes mandatory. An idea I can get behind. But since someone had already laid claim to the character of Spatula Man (He talks to girls, in the morning he cooks them breakfast!), I was forced to consider other options . . .
Slapstick
COSTUME: Hockey stick, pants around ankles, video camera pointing at himself, copies of 'Glengary Glenross' and 'Boiler Room' affixed strategically for padding.
POWERS: Self-deprecation, ironic detachment, potentially unwarranted optimism.
Captain Coincidence
COSTUME: Standard date attire.
POWERS: Repeating ability to run into exactly the right person on a random downtown street corner - someone who can elevate his standing in the eyes of whomever he happens to be walking with.
The Juggler
COSTUME: Numerous rubber balls and flaming bowling pins.
POWERS: Ability to recall the correct name in a pinch.
I. M. Patient
COSTUME: Strait jacket and facemask (both slightly loosened), perpetually bugged-out rapidly-shifting eyeballs.
POWERS: (In)ability to sit around for even a single night without the contact of another human presence, frustrating tendency to subject friends to psychotic doses of manic schizophrenia. (Those of you fortunate enough to NOT be living in San Francisco at present, count your blessings! Note: Caller ID might be a worthwhile investment. Seriously.)
Mr. Marathon
COSTUME: Ace bandages, draped strategically around body, inscribed with pertinent lyrics from the best running songs of the 80s.
POWERS: Late night dancing stamina, the long view, dedication of ridiculous amounts of time to date preparation, singing at the top of lungs while running down the street (to temporarily vanquish the voices chattering inside skull).
The Groupie
COSTUME: Fluffy wool suit, a sidekick (usually), a smile.
POWERS: Skillful - if over-exuberant - purchasing of CDs, aptitude for re-scheduling commitments in conflict with spur-of-the-moment performances.
Matt A. Morphosis (Friends barely recognize him)
COSTUME: A suit made from 30 pounds of butter, which gradually melts during the evening, revealing bronze body paint, jeans that had not previously fit for three years, and a pair of wings - crinkled and greasy, but wings nevertheless.
POWERS: Runs and play tennis during the afternoon while everyone else has to work, unflagging willingness to speak with strangers - at bars, parties, or even on the street.
Hattan Man
COSTUME: Red tuxedo, red or black bowler hat, silver cocktail shaker at the ready.
POWERS: Can harness the immense truth-serum force inherent in certain potent cocktails, belligerent tenacity, tendency to blather on - often in an overly-sentimental fashion.
Saint X (Working to expand the implications of the X beyond "exhibitionist")
COSTUME: A dark shirt with sleeves reaching to the floor decorated with hearts all the way down, a mask that fluctuates between transparent and opaque.
POWERS: Tricking girls into going out with him, sometimes more than once!
Super Dork (A curious blend of superhero and mild-mannered average Joe)
COSTUME: Thin black eyeglasses, abridged paperback copy of The Bible protruding from back pocket, laptop computer, a tray of food from swank French seafood bistros (especially steamed sea bass with wild mushrooms and white port sauce).
POWERS: Competence at making women laugh out loud at e-mail messages (only occasionally at the expense of others), talent for suggesting characters that instantaneously appear in screenplays (often within a romantic context), intermittent tranquility.
20th Century Failure
COSTUME: A 7-foot fence forming a perfect, impregnable circle.
POWERS: Absolutely none, except for the ability to sit for weeks at a time without the contact of another human presence.
That last one reminds me that although I still have a few costumes sitting around from years gone by, most of them were just too depressing to consider. A sampling of the rejects include: The Fence Sitter, The Invisible Man, Crash (with or without his faithful ward, Burn), The Loneliest Man in the Whole Damn World, The Friend, The Time Bomb... (It's a very long list!)
So what did I finally decide? As it turns out, I DID resort to a favorites from the past. I went as The Cryptographer. I carried around numerous sheet of paper containing strange, sometimes indecipherable words, which either alluded to a great deal, or said remarkably little. On a t-shirt I stitched the phrase BEST OF LUCK! (I turned the O into a smiley face.)
-- Saint X
* * * * *
More costume ideas
Next: The Wasp Prince$$
"You don't really love that guy you make it with now do you
I know you don't love that guy cause I can see right through you"
I know you don't love that guy cause I can see right through you"
Thursday I met a woman for drinks. (I was told I could identify her by her "unnaturally red hair.") I was not especially surprised that the evening went well because we had already traded a number of interesting e-mails. She asks good questions and has a perceptive take on the world. What surprised me was that things went SO well she invited me, on the spot, to a party at her apartment on Saturday night.
Although her distribution list did exceed the one The Swinger sent out for her recent happy hour - by some 1,554 guest as it happens (it was in part a fundraiser for local nonprofits; she's on the board of something or other; yet another save-the-world type, I know; still don't understand why that keeps popping up) - at least Red sent me a personal note with the details. Have I mentioned she lives 167 paces down the street from me?
Theme for the party: Superheroes. Costumes mandatory. An idea I can get behind. But since someone had already laid claim to the character of Spatula Man (He talks to girls, in the morning he cooks them breakfast!), I was forced to consider other options . . .
Slapstick
COSTUME: Hockey stick, pants around ankles, video camera pointing at himself, copies of 'Glengary Glenross' and 'Boiler Room' affixed strategically for padding.
POWERS: Self-deprecation, ironic detachment, potentially unwarranted optimism.
Captain Coincidence
COSTUME: Standard date attire.
POWERS: Repeating ability to run into exactly the right person on a random downtown street corner - someone who can elevate his standing in the eyes of whomever he happens to be walking with.
The Juggler
COSTUME: Numerous rubber balls and flaming bowling pins.
POWERS: Ability to recall the correct name in a pinch.
I. M. Patient
COSTUME: Strait jacket and facemask (both slightly loosened), perpetually bugged-out rapidly-shifting eyeballs.
POWERS: (In)ability to sit around for even a single night without the contact of another human presence, frustrating tendency to subject friends to psychotic doses of manic schizophrenia. (Those of you fortunate enough to NOT be living in San Francisco at present, count your blessings! Note: Caller ID might be a worthwhile investment. Seriously.)
Mr. Marathon
COSTUME: Ace bandages, draped strategically around body, inscribed with pertinent lyrics from the best running songs of the 80s.
POWERS: Late night dancing stamina, the long view, dedication of ridiculous amounts of time to date preparation, singing at the top of lungs while running down the street (to temporarily vanquish the voices chattering inside skull).
The Groupie
COSTUME: Fluffy wool suit, a sidekick (usually), a smile.
POWERS: Skillful - if over-exuberant - purchasing of CDs, aptitude for re-scheduling commitments in conflict with spur-of-the-moment performances.
Matt A. Morphosis (Friends barely recognize him)
COSTUME: A suit made from 30 pounds of butter, which gradually melts during the evening, revealing bronze body paint, jeans that had not previously fit for three years, and a pair of wings - crinkled and greasy, but wings nevertheless.
POWERS: Runs and play tennis during the afternoon while everyone else has to work, unflagging willingness to speak with strangers - at bars, parties, or even on the street.
Hattan Man
COSTUME: Red tuxedo, red or black bowler hat, silver cocktail shaker at the ready.
POWERS: Can harness the immense truth-serum force inherent in certain potent cocktails, belligerent tenacity, tendency to blather on - often in an overly-sentimental fashion.
Saint X (Working to expand the implications of the X beyond "exhibitionist")
COSTUME: A dark shirt with sleeves reaching to the floor decorated with hearts all the way down, a mask that fluctuates between transparent and opaque.
POWERS: Tricking girls into going out with him, sometimes more than once!
Super Dork (A curious blend of superhero and mild-mannered average Joe)
COSTUME: Thin black eyeglasses, abridged paperback copy of The Bible protruding from back pocket, laptop computer, a tray of food from swank French seafood bistros (especially steamed sea bass with wild mushrooms and white port sauce).
POWERS: Competence at making women laugh out loud at e-mail messages (only occasionally at the expense of others), talent for suggesting characters that instantaneously appear in screenplays (often within a romantic context), intermittent tranquility.
20th Century Failure
COSTUME: A 7-foot fence forming a perfect, impregnable circle.
POWERS: Absolutely none, except for the ability to sit for weeks at a time without the contact of another human presence.
That last one reminds me that although I still have a few costumes sitting around from years gone by, most of them were just too depressing to consider. A sampling of the rejects include: The Fence Sitter, The Invisible Man, Crash (with or without his faithful ward, Burn), The Loneliest Man in the Whole Damn World, The Friend, The Time Bomb... (It's a very long list!)
So what did I finally decide? As it turns out, I DID resort to a favorites from the past. I went as The Cryptographer. I carried around numerous sheet of paper containing strange, sometimes indecipherable words, which either alluded to a great deal, or said remarkably little. On a t-shirt I stitched the phrase BEST OF LUCK! (I turned the O into a smiley face.)
-- Saint X
More costume ideas
Next: The Wasp Prince$$