I don’t really know why I feel badly about this situation, but I do.
A couple of years ago I worked at a run of the mill place with some pretty awesome people. One of the people was a cat who got hired the same time I did, named Malibu. Well obviously, his real name is not Malibu, that’s his alter’s name.
He’s a customer service professional by day,
and a hip hop rap mogul at night.
We all have fantasies, so I thought it was pretty cool.
There’s no time limit on art, right?
I hadn’t ever heard him perform or any of his music but he was sincere about it.
In his mind he was the next Eminem.
I guess I still don’t really get why it is bothering me so much, what happened and all, but it is.
He and I had a few conversations, very few, over the past several years, usually in a designated smoking area. He had a party
at his house once
and he invited me
and I went
and we didn’t talk but I thought that it was cool that he cooked.
A customer service, rapping, cook.
Brilliant.
And he had weed.
Even better.
In less than a year I was a manager and he was a front line employee so we didn’t kick it much.
he was too tall and very lanky but I thought he was cute once when the sun was setting,
and we were outside smoking,
and he was bobbing to his music.
I never said that.
Fast forward.
We work different places around town now but thanks to social media, Malibu and I keep in touch.
Or we read each other’s status updates.
And a month or two ago I was wasted.
I felt amazing.
And of course what am I doing with me energy and excitement?
Reading status updates and drinking.
Malibu was on.
he said hey-i said whats up? he said how you been? I said amazing, how about you?He said, cool focused on my music. I said nice, what are you getting into tonight? He said why? I said come smoke with me, he said cool.
And now I feel terribly, for no reason.
He came, we listened to his music, drank and smoked. I didn’t think it through, but I know me and when I am in the zone I feel like being touched. So I lied. I said, you know, Malibu, I’ve always had a crush on you.
I’ve never had a crush on him.
I never even thought about him much before that day.
He said, oh yea? His voice changed.
Customer service was gone.
Cook, sweet, house-party was gone.
He pulled me close on the sofa like he knew me.
He was all rapper then.
He told me, in his rap voice, that his ex girl friend kicked him in the face.
He told me he had no time for women it was all about the music.
The music.
Nothing mattered but the music.
I said great, let’s have some fun.
At then end, in the morning we went back to being strangers.
Co-workers.
Smokers in the designated area.
And for a while I was cool with that.
We went back to just reading each other’s status updates.
And I think I texted him once on the humble for some weed or some ass.
And no response.
I think I invited him over, randomly another time and he ignored me.
I don’t really know why I feel badly about this situation, but I do.
Usually I am the one doing the disappearing.
And now I feel terribly, for no reason.
His music ain’t that damn good.