I was feeling morose on a lonesome walk down along the creek when Famous Blue Raincoat came on the iPod. You know the one — that moody Leonard Cohen tune that at first sounds like it might be about a woman who dies of a heroin overdose in the snow, but upon inspection of the printed lyrics it seems more like it's about a really mean older brother who had to move to New Mexico to get his head straight. Anyhow, the depressing tone gelled pretty well with the sluggish creek and moonlight, and the chilly late-summer air, and the olive drab cableknit I had on, and all of a sudden I realized I'd just overdosed on self-pity and felt myself coming out of the funk I'd been in ever since Circus Penis ditched out on me and called me a "ditherer." For like a week I'd been suffering from such deep seated self-doubt that I hadn't been able to pick up so much as a bar of soap without thinking, "I'm not going to do this right."
So, what do you do when you're coming out of a self-indulgent funk and want to get your spins on, most likely to include several games of pool, loud AC/DC, and a 4am Scotch-fueled viewing of the Braveheart director's cut? You call Ray! So, that's what I did, but as usual I didn't end up getting what I expected.
TÉODOR: [places call]
RAY: [picks up, yelling] Jesus, Gavin! Use the damned leeches already!
TÉODOR: Ray? Ray? This is Téodor.
RAY: Oh, hey, Téodor. Sorry. How you doin'.
TÉODOR: [hoping to diminish his anger with humor] What was that about Gavin and the Leeches? Did you just sign a new band?
RAY: [angry] Oh, it ain't worth mentionin'. Just havin' trouble gettin' through to someone.
TÉODOR: Yeesh. Okay, I won't ask.
RAY: Yeah, it's nothin'. Whatchu call about?
TÉODOR: Oh, I was wondering if you were up for a no-good evening, maybe some pool and Patrón.
RAY: Daaaaaamn. You know, I'm pretty spent. I got really horny this afternoon, man.
TÉODOR: [brightening, as one does for a friend who has recently scored] Oh, you're with a chick! Sorry, I'll call back tomorrow.
RAY: No, man. It ain't nothin' like that.
TÉODOR: [confused] But...what was that about having sex all afternoon?
RAY: Heh. There definitely wasn't any sex bein' had. Not that I knew about, anyway. Maybe at other peoples' houses.
TÉODOR: So...you just got so horny that you got tired?
RAY: Somethin' like that. Anyhow. Man, now I'm all worried about diabetes.
TÉODOR: Sorry. I guess I'll check you later.
RAY: Jesus. Man, how am I supposed to get to sleep now.
TÉODOR: Sorry! I'm sorry I misunderstood.
RAY: Be careful, man. Of diabetes. [yawns]
TÉODOR: Right, I will.
RAY: [yawns, hangs up]
I got the sense he wasn't being completely straight with me, but I didn't want to meet Gavin and his leeches so I minded my own business and made for home. I think I'm just going to have a little red and head to bed with some reading material. I haven't read anything in a while, other than that two year-old New Yorker that's been sitting by the toilet so long it's wrinkled from splatter, so I got some interesting books about product design off the living room shelves, and a book about the history of Levi Jeans for when I get bored of those.
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