Time Warner and my Weekend

It’s the story of my life, whenever I finally make the commitment to do something (aka write about my trip to London), the heavens fall and there is an issue. Either time, money, or this time it’s my cable provider Time Warner. Evidently my neighborhood in the village is having massive issues with our cable service. I spent the first half of the weekend without tv-- which was a blessing, by the way, I actually read, granted it was a bootleg copy of “How Opal Mehta Got Kissed, Got Wild and Got a Life, but I fucking read-- and of course I am still without internet. 56 Hours later.

I’ve left several nasty messages with customer service telling them that I am a very very very minor celebrity in the blogosphere and that I need the internet to post to my growing fan base. They really didn’t seem to care. Although, using my negotiation skills I am going to try to scam a free month of HBO, I hear Entourage is fucking hysterical.

My behavior this past weekend has left me with an important realization. I am getting old. Friday night I went to a benefit for the over-priced celebrity parent school where my friend worked. It was supposed to serve a dual purpose: networking with some of these celeb parents and pre-gaming for the big quasi-rave thrown by these guys. Well, four Sangrias later, no interaction with any celebrity parents except when a screenwriter asked me as she was in the middle chatting to my friend about her son, “Do you work with children?” and I responded, “I don’t have the patience.” She turned her head and pretended that I did not exist. Is my big break going to involve me having to discuss children and how they play with the blocks?

Stumbling home in my heels, as soon as I found my bed I did not leave until Saturday afternoon. “Napping” through the quasi-rave, and my friends’ messages how it was “awesome!” and that “it’s a fucking E orgy!”

I am getting old. A few weeks ago I even declined hanging out with the Roots when they were in town because I was so fucking exhausted and I had to work the next day.

However, although my body is getting old, it seems that my sense of humor leaves me acting like a pubescent boy. Late Saturday night, drunk and in some dark hole in the wall playing pool and drinking after a wannabe frat party in Hoboken, I spot my entertainment for the evening.

“Hey, Seth, see that couple over there? I bet you any amount of money that it is their first date.”

“How could you tell?”

“Easily, look at their body language. The girl is being flirty but not obviously invading his space. And he looks like a puppy in heat.”

“No way, could you fucking tell.”

“I am serious, it’s a gift I have. I can read body language. Let’s place a bet. I am so confident that I bet you a beer that I am right.”

“How are you going to tell?”

“Walk right up to them.”

“No way!”

“Watch me.”

And I proceed to walk up to this couple.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you but my friend and I have a bet going on.”

Blank stare on their part.

“How long have you been going out?”

She responds, “We just met an hour and a half ago.”

Smiling, “Thank you! I just won a beer. I bet my friend that it’s your first date.”

“How did you know?” She asked incredulously.

“Well, it’s your body language. You are trying to flirt but you aren’t allowing completely him into your personal space. He is being reactive to your gestures, trying to send you the signal that he is interested.”

I continue, “Thanks so much for the beer. I hope it all works out for you guys.”

When I return, my friend and I check out the couple. And of course they are totally awkward, now understanding how non-verbal body language reveals far more than what we communicate with our words.

As the couple gets ready to leave, I am left standing next to them because it is my shot on the pool table.

I turn around and lean in on the guy, “Hey dude, remember, wrap it up.”

And then I take my pool shot as the couple giggles nervously.

I destroyed a date and ended my night in a diner with two guys.

Who says life is fair?

And in happier news, I got a Hepa filter and now my bedroom is an allergy free zone. I slept like a baby last night. Allergy sufferers, I swear to you, the filter is worth the $200. Being able to breathe is priceless. Especially when you react badly to all allergy medications as they all put you to sleep.