Schoolgirl Figure is an amazing success. We've had so many big, important types come see the show. The real Patch Adams. The head of the national association of college deans of student life. Just about every reviewer in town. I think the Post felt bad for deciding to not review Angel Shit because it had a dirty word in the title. So they've made up for it with not one but two rave reviews. We've sold out this show just about every night of the run, which is nearly a first for us. Tonight we had to turn 20 people away. That sort of shit usually only happens with the one-time events, like the staged readings or Day Old Plays. (By the way, not to brag, but I'm getting one of the only comps for Day Old Plays. You may form a line to touch my magnificence over there.)
In the midst of this, though, is the eminently depressing news that Metro is losing its lease. Gentrification sucks ass. The Freshfields opening on P Street a couple of years ago has started hiking land values all around that area. It's now at the point that the folks who own those buildings on Church Street (the old Wooley space, Metro, some other places) have decided to cash out. So, Metro will close in early September. That will be a sad day. The guys there are saying that it won't be long before they've found a new home, but we'll see. The plan right now is that Cherry Red and Metro will go in for a building together, split the cost of construction and licenses, and we get an entire floor to ourselves, so we can start classes, promoting other groups in town, film nights... all that shit that Cherry Red-ites have been clamoring for but we haven't been able to do. That would be ideal. But, for now, Metro is closing, and it left us without a home.
However, due to some bitchin' connections Ian has, we've already found a new home, at least for the interim. The old Rupert's restaurant on 7th Street is available (the restaurant closed some time ago), so we're moving in there, and the Rupert corporation is going to reopen the space as the Cherry Red home-slash-bar-slash-short order restaurant. So, starting with Spamlet, we'll be somewhere Other Than Metro for the duration. How sad.
Some days this single thing I've been enduring for far too long (in my opinion, anyway) doesn't bother me... I'm quite comfortable with myself most of the time. But lately, it just seems like I can't catch a break. I was talking about this briefly with Michelle this evening (because I don't want to be the guy who always cries about being single), and she made this observation:
Nice Guys do finish last. That's because, by and large, they don't want Nice Guys. They want guys who have at least a bare modicum of excitement to them, someone vaguely unusual, vaguely exciting, vaguely unpredictable. Nice Guys are predictable, comfortable. Michelle maintains that some guys are Nice, some guys are Unpredictable, and some have some combination of both. I fall into that third category, according to her, which makes me more marketable that some. She's quite baffled why I'm not dating someone right now.
It's not really that much a mystery, though. I just keep barking up the wrong tree (or some nicer metaphor that conveys the same information). My three latest interests have been women who either are not looking or are not interested in my "type". For instance, a friend of Michelle's, a very striking woman named Danna, has been a pleasant acquaintance for over a year. Recently I found out from a very reliable source, that Danna was back on the market (after a couple of failed short-term things), and that I might do well to step into the breach. Except, I found out from this same source a couple of days later that Danna is "finicky" and has a penchant for dating men who display their wealth conspicuously. Shortly after that, I learned that she (bucking a recent trend) is not interested in us goys. That's fine... I can totally respect that. What I'm not sure I understand is why I would get this encouragement from a trusted source. It's just a little baffling.
Then I meet this incredible women who I hit it off with very well, I have a great deal in common with them, invest some time in getting to know them, cross that dangerous line of actually gaining the smallest iota of hope that there might be that much-vaunted "something there", only to eventually find out that she's already seeing someone.
Ugh. That's enough of that. I get so disgusted about it.
I've noticed that, over the past two months as the Dow has dropped like... well, like something that drops steadily, the moderately wealthy of Fairfax Country have been getting testy. It's understandable... when you plan the last twenty years of your life on the basis of some dog and pony show in lower Manhattan, and then you find out that it's all a big joke on you, and that your retirement fund is evaporating hourly, you're bound to be a little irked. But for the love of God people, I didn't do this to you! Quit taking it out on me! I could care that your middle-age-crisismobile's payments are three months late - or any of it. It's just not my fault. So take your attitude, wrap it in your penny stocks and shove them up your too-tight ass.
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