Transplanted Life
Wednesday, December 17, 2003
Fun-ish night
I mean, yeah, I got soaked to the skin, and if this was the last Weekly Wednesday Ass-Kicking, it's not the best way to go out, but I had fun.

When we bumped into each other on the way to Jen's Halloween party, I told Carter that we'd have to get him to a comic shop sometime to see what he, as a lapsed reader, was missing. Today, evidently, was the day he decided to hold me to it.

I haven't been hitting the comic shop that much; I sort of went through the entire "current issues" rack one time, decided what I really missed, and subscribed to those. Every once in a while, I'll pick up a collected edition, too. Still, I'm at least somewhat familiar with what's available and what's going on in most of the major "universes". Carter figured that was good, since he was planning on picking some stuff up for the kids at the youth center where he volunteeers and didn't want to pick something dorky up.

So, anyway, we hopped on the red line and headed out to Harvard Square after work. He was kind of curious about why we were going there instead of someplace closer to where I lived, but I pointed out that I was sort of just across the river, and Harvard Square is decidedly less sketchy than the area around where I live. Which isn't, I hastened to add, as bad as it looks - it's one of those neighborhoods that has lots of cruddy-looking buildings with digital satellite dishes in the windows. Besides, I didn't really enjoy my visit to the closest store that much. "You've got to be careful choosing your comics shop," I told him, "because it's not quite like choosing friends, but it is a place where you'll likely be hanging out once a week, shooting the shit with people. It's gotta be a place you can enjoy hanging out, and it's kind of hard to disentangle yourself."

"Why's that?"

"Well, you get the best prices if you're pre-ordering, which you do two months in advance, so even if you decide that you don't like a place, you could wind up still going back to get what you've ordered a couple months down the road, even if you're getting your other stuff elsewhere."

"Kind of like seeing a new girl while you're still working with your ex?"

I grinned. "Kind of."

Anyway, The Million Year Picnic was kind of crowded, as Wednesdays are when new releases come out and they've been trying to get people to do their Christmas shopping there - not being a chain like other local shops (New England Comics and Newbury Comics, although the latter is mainly a record store), they're always vulnerable to getting squeezed out; not much way to spread the risk. I like it, though - they've got a fun wall to browse, a good selection of collections, foreign stuff, comic strip collections, a nice system for letting people get at their subscriptions, and a decent-sized but discreet "mature readers" section. The downside is it's very cramped, although it wasn't as bad as it is when there's a signing.

We did some poking around. Since he was looking for stuff for kids, I pointed him towards Oni's stuff by J. Torres. He also grabbed the first "Barry Ween" collection, which I told him to get for himself - it's got a cute, cartoony look, and the main characters are ten-year-olds, but there's swearing. He put it back on the shelf, saying maybe he'd do a run for himself later... Or he could borrow my copy. "Um... I sort of don't have my collection any more. Lost it when I moved here."

So, we got our comics and stopped by a place in The Garage for pizza. Talked about how nerve-wracking the whole Nomar-Manny-A-Rod-Ordonez thing was, and what happens if it falls apart, and how weird will it feel if it does go through. He'd been living in Atlanta for the last few years, so he's not exactly used to the way we live and die with the Red Sox here. One nice thing about being in a woman's body is that you can go on and on about baseball, and it's great, but you also have no obligation to show any interest when someone starts talking about college football. It's like guys are just grateful that you care about any sports at all.

I looked at my watch, mentioned that I'd have to leave right away to make it to the WWAK. He, of course, had never heard of it, but offered to walk me there, which was awfully nice of him. It was starting to get dark, after all, and I still haven't been able to figure out where the bus in that direction goes.

That was the sucky part of the evening. Not Carter's fault, but while we were crossing the Charles, the wind caught my umbrella and deposited it in the river. We had to stop by my apartment so I could get changed, while I grumbled about my dry-cleaning bill. Didn't help that I got splashed good by a couple cars going through puddles, either.

We got there just as the Taoism Drunkard preview was starting; didn't even have time to see if Jen, Carlos, Wei, or anyone else I knew came.

The movie... Well, the movie was Devil Fetus. As horror movies go, it's almost completely incoherent. I went because I figured, hey, this might be the last one ever (because the world really needs a new Staples), and it was the third time it had played Boston this year, though I'd missed the other two. It must be good if people keep having it back, right? Not quite. Some absurd gross-out moments, as well as a hilarious "teenage boy possessed by evil stares at posters of girls, lots of quick cutting between them and his face, then a cut to his brother opening a Coke which fizzes big-time" montage (note: in Hong Kong, kids go straight to topless in their bedrooms, unlike here where I basically maxed out at bikinis - my mom might have walked in!). The main character's love interest was described as "auntie's daughter", which would seem to make them first cousins, but that was evidently no big deal. Most of what went on was totally random, culminating in something like Evil Dead 2.

Carter... Well, he wasn't as dismissive as Kate or Paul. That one wasn't his thing, but he liked the energy. I assured him it was more fun when there was actual punching and kicking going on.

I left him at the T station, then got splashed again on the way home. I'd almost prefer snow to big puddles.

Okay, no I wouldn't.

It was fun to just hang out with a guy, though. Not to say there wasn't anything sexual going through our heads - I've got this body, which is going to attract his attention, and I can't help but noticed how phallic any guy with a shaved head looks (I can't even watch basketball any more) - but we just had a good time.

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