CASSETTE FROM MY EX

I met her at my workplace, Café Pamplona. My days there were numbered, as I was about to head away to Jazz camp.   I sensed that I was close to getting fired because I couldn’t make a good cappuccino.   I was more interested with shoving tarts in my face, getting girls’ numbers, and daydreaming. Once time, I spilled hot tea on someone’s hands and told him “a little pain is a good thing.”

When I got her number, I was excited and I placed it in my special numbers drawer.  I called her up and we talked about a trip to the town fair.  We went to a rock show, instead.  Our conversations were boring and left me feeling empty. At the time, I had been writing a song for every day; this day’s song was titled “The Sideways Song.”

A few days later I checked my new caller ID, and it informed me that she’d called.  A great wave of excitement passed through me.   Even though I felt sideways on our first date, it was exciting that a girl liked me.   On our second date, we walked to the pizza shop and played Ms. Pacman then did some candlepin bowling.  I beat her at both, showing off my athletic prowess.

I liked her.  There was something about her that was medieval, like a cute peasant women.  And there was something dirty, something real about her and I couldn’t communicate this in words.

I was determined to kiss her.  When the night was coming to a close, a nervous feeling settled inside me.  As we talked on a bench, I stopped listening to her words.  It felt like we were talking-for-the-sake-of-talking.   Words moved by but I couldn’t catch the meaning of any of them.   Suddenly I felt a wave of the absurd.  I scooped mulch and dirt off the ground and covered her legs with it. Somehow, it felt like the appropriate thing to do.  It felt like this was a REAL way of communicating.

“What are you doing?!” she said of my dirt-throwing.  I got the sense that she also found it charming.  As we were waiting for the train I asked her if I could kiss her and she said “yes.”

When I got back from Jazz camp, we went out on our third date. We awkwardly made out in a public park next to an old grey couple, also making out.  Then we ate ice cream before my gig at the restaurant/clothing store, Louis Boston. I spilled ice cream all over me.  It dripped on my shirt and pants, then fell to the ground.  I didn’t care.

Shortly after, she made me this mix tape teaching me how to properly eat ice cream.

Eliot Krimsky is a musician who lives in Brooklyn, New York.  He performs, plays keyboards, sings, and writes songs. He plays in bands Glass Ghost and Flying.  He also writes movie scores, plays piano for modern dance, and teaches music to kids.