germans, little guy

andy pink, allston —

first off, to the two germans, with distinct ip addresses, who have been obsessively checking my site for the last two weeks: one, i can assure you, we don't know each other, you may know each other, even in decidedly different sections of germany, but i promise that we have never met, no books have been sold off the german amazon site, so it is unlikely you have purchased the book, so you have somehow found it via a german google search, which seems a near impossibility, since the fucking site does not even come up on google usa unless full title is typed in, with hyphens — how you have come to discover me, i cannot know, but if you insist on stalking the site, and you enjoy visiting the site, and you find me actually intellectually irresistable and potentially sexually indescribable — feel free to wire me your words via the exit survey (not recommended) or via the andy or michael email addresses (will be a delay in return because i don't check those mailboxes for logistical reasons very often); second, it is unlikely that i will be sexually attracted to either of you because, if you are german, and if you are european, you are probably uncut, and that is a deal-breaker; i have a friend in france, who is american, who is uncut, and he likes uncut, and perhaps you and he (or all three of you) would make a hot match.

one good thing has happened this past yr: i have sealed free coffee — for the foreseeable future — at 7-11; i'm not sure how this came about, perhaps my morning frequency made it inevitable, but i get the wave as i walk in, i fill my coffee, and i give the wave as a i walk out. the 7-11 coffee is really quite good, if it is hot, though mcdonald's coffee is better, i have not procured free fills at mcdonald's, even though they like me there, and i suppose there is something about the scared to death illegal immigrant at work at a multinational corporation that has sealed the fate that we must all follow the rules, which is fine.

i have been depressed for the last two weeks, probably because of the end of the semester, which is hard for me, not sure why, and, in the midst of this depression, i have been given various specks of advice, i suppose to make me feel better, just as offerings, but also in their substance, as if they might, on paper, be of some help to me. so far, two weeks into this trip, i have been proffered the following two twigs of immaculate insight:

"andy, what you have to do is snap out of it."

"andy, there is no reason to be depressed now that things look like they might eventually turn around."

***

i visited with little guy at the trader j's by school yesterday; he really is lovely, small, slight, forgettable, i'm sure he's bumped into a lot — physically — in the public because no one would bother to see him, there's not much there, he must often be run over, or railroaded, by people moving about, not bothering to notice this little gem. nothing will come of me and little guy, he is interested, in his own quiet way, as am i, in my own undone way, but there's no way that we will connect even if it would be fun to go to the beach with him, and when we do, i won't go in the water, or play in any way, but i'll watch him, shout out my various lines, and he will build a sand castle, or go in the water, or dry himself off with a towel, and i'll write, say a few words, watch him from the privacy of my sunglasses, we won't say much, either of us, we'll just endure the sun and the heat and then we'll quietly go home. this will not happen for a variety of reasons, but mostly because, given my age, it would be my obligation to initiate with him, and i'm not really equipped to do that, i'm too nervous, or undone, and i can just sort of perform for him, at a distance, knowing he is there, curious, watching me, but that is as close as we are likely to get. he did compliment my sunglasses — the yellow and pink pair — the other day at the cash, and, rather incredibly, it was the day that i had planned — per peter's advice — to compliment him on his glasses, which are dreadfully unremarkable, as is he as a whole; but before i could break out with my benign and understated compliment, he rushed in, rather smoothly, with: "those sunglasses are great." i had nothing to say, i mumbled something to the effect of "thank you" — and then i was gone, with receipt and water, to ponder our absolute nothingness of an interaction for the next 24 hours as i slid into deeper depression and angrier desperation. there's no good reason not to assume that i don't love this boy — he is lovable in a runt style of way — but my love will eventually extinguish, as it did for chris, and i will move on to some other inaccessible fellow and his blond hair and inexperience.

down the road, what will be strange is to die in my apartment, alone, without family, only distant friends, dispersed, and then to be found 3 weeks later by the super or by an anonymous neighbor. they will know my name, as they stare at my dead body in the bed, but they will not know my story.

later today, i will work on the 'places andy's been fucked' as well as 'andy pink's jockstraps of champions' — they deserve resurrection after all of this time — i have no ideas for supplementation at the moment but if i buy a briquet perhaps i'll be able to light, by chance.

andy pink