Tomorrow after almost a year, I will meet Fishy face to face. The Pickle is at My Cousin Vinny's sports bar in my hamlet of Charleroi on Mon.
I'm scared to death.
Our friendship/acquaintance has been rocky since the end of March.
I want a friendship...I'm not sure he does. He probably wishes I would come down with the flu tomorrow. I wish I could.
What am I going to say to him? Besides "Hi Fishy." And then I'll promptly pass out at his feet.
I've met famous people. I've carried on conversations with them. Intelligent ones even, and I managed to sound like a human being. I don't know if I can do that with him.
I like him. Because he's not like every DJ around. He's a goof. A goober. A geek. A sweetie too, because he's put up with me for several months now.
I have gone through periods of time when I shut the radio off or changed the station. I was teased about it too.
I just don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow. I'm scared to death. Of going and worse, of him.
Cartoon Saturday
3 hours ago
0 comments:
Post a Comment