New York Part 4: A Liar and a Secret Keeper

I reached the threshold of the bar where I was to meet Meg and Alex promptly at 5:30. I saw them immediately through the window. I froze. Suddenly this was real. This was happening in my life. In the past few months I have met a number of people who were previously nothing to me but words and pictures over the internet, but this was the most important. It hit me like a sockful of nickels that this was it.

Almost immediately, after the welcoming hugs and "Holy shit we're really here aren't we?" I excused myself. Heatstroke and nerves were knotting my stomach up, and I hadn't used the toilet in what felt like 48 hours. I felt dried up and awful. Fortunately, there is beer in the world.

Some words echoed in my ears from months ago. "Here's what I don't understand about you," my co-worker said. "You're really charming..." That wasn't the end of the thought but that was all she said. She implied that I should have no trouble with women based on how easily I talk and joke around with customers and befriend people. But I have this weird double life where I sit quietly in my mind and overthink every possible action and end up doing nothing. It seems antisocial and introverted to everyone and it's been a problem in my life. But nudge me, show some interest, make me think you wanna hear what I have to say, and I'll talk my face off.

When I initially told that anecdote on Tumblr, Alex and Meg speculated she was probably indicating she was interested in me. I knew better and in fact much later found out she started dating another co-worker. They actually never told me directly, and when they're both around I act like I don't know. If they ever do tell me, I plan on acting oblivious. There's at least one photo of them kissing on Facebook, but I didn't see it until a further co-worker pointed it out.

After taking a deep breath and reminding myself that it's not really all that hard to be that Scotto, I ran some water through my hair and rejoined my friends. I ordered a Stella and soon enough I did become that Scotto. We were quickly talking like we'd known each other for years. They congratulated me on wearing Chucks instead of some weird Canadian shoes (?) and on the fact that my hair was naturally doing its flippy-uppy thing rather than being something I spent time styling, and just generally not being a weirdo like they feared. They told me stuff I hadn't gleaned -- or they wouldn't have mentioned -- on Tumblr. I responded by sharing some comparable, outrageous stories. They referred to something I said before the trip: I'm a liar and a secret-keeper and I'm awful but it works.

This came to me when I was reflecting on an experience I had the weekend before, at my cousin's wedding. I was talking to this girl and she mentioned the guy she was seeing and how it wasn't serious. She then asked where "my girlfriend" was, and instead of telling the truth -- that I don't really date all that consistently -- I said we had just broken up, that this nonexistent girl had moved away and ultimately we had different goals in life. When I said that, she immediately came out with the sympathy and understanding, "That's so true, it's impossible to stay with someone if you don't have that."

I write fiction. I used to act and do improv. I write English papers and I work customer service/sales. What all this means is, I'm quite comfortable lying to someone's face if it suits me. I'm not sinister, but I weave my own narrative just to get around the awkwardness of the truth. That, it turned out, was going to be important.

Meg came out with it. One of their friends was having a birthday the next night, a backyard BBQ. They'd tear her a new one if they knew she was playing host to some random dude she'd never met, from the Internet of all evil places. I was to play a character. My mom was friends with her mom, and I hadn't met Alex. "Can you do that?"
I said yesterday you never know what's going to come at you in life. You have to deal with it, adapt and let it happen. "Yeah, sure." I said. "I'm down."

After a few drinks we took the subway to Brooklyn. Toronto kept coming back to me in weird ways. I'd see neighborhoods and buildings that would remind me of the Annex or downtown. I explained that Toronto's subway is only two lines, the yellow and green (Alex correctly guessed) and the rest is buses and streetcars and walking. A woman on the platform overheard. "Excuse me, are you talking about Toronto? I'm from there!"

She and Alex started talking and Meg and I started talking so I got distracted. The Torontonian lady asked where in Toronto I lived and I admitted, embarrassedly, it was Oakville, which has a reputation for rich snobbery (which my high school shows was not universal.) I went to U of T, but I commuted. The lady tried to explain it to Alex and Meg in local terms. When she left, Alex joked (I think) that I was rude to the lady because I wasn't really into the conversation.

We got to the apartment and drank and hung out and had pizza. They played Sufjan Stevens and I played them some Joel Plaskett, ("Through & Through & Through") which they seemed to enjoy if they caught it. I told them Abby liked him. After that, Meg started fiddling with my iPod and happened to land on the second half of Arcade Fire's Funeral album. I found it so odd she'd pick that, my recent fascination and the very CD I had briefly discussed with Yara the random London girl earlier that afternoon. I decided Arcade Fire is one of those things, like Arrested Development, if you want to make a friend, you mention you like it, and either they will too, or they won't and you won't want to be their friend as much. Alex rocked out to "Ready to Start." We went out a while, but I was so dead from a night of travel, a day of wandering, and an evening of drinking, that I basically passed out on the Pac-Man table. Still, when we got home, I had the presence of mind to plug in my phone and pop some of the Advil I brought for my teeth to prevent hangover.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto