Perfect Hair Day

Being wasted on a couple of little boys.

And no.

I don’t mean immature men.

I mean little boys.

I am working late tonight on a Friday.

I don’t mind it all that much as I was able to start late.

Two p.m.

I slept in last night after an engaging back and forth with a friend for a while last night as he sat contemplating life, the universe, loss, love, narcissistic thinking, eccentricity, egoism, moving on, and what comes next.

I couldn’t tell you what comes next, except that I am eager for my friend’s return and also for the weekend.

I have a looker tomorrow for my scooter and I am hoping that it will be a sale.

Especially since there’s not a thing wrong with it, except that I haven’t started it in a month.  My friend who sold it to me started it up a few weeks back, but I am fairly certain it was really about a month ago.  It may take a little effort to start it.

Hard to sell a scooter when you’re afraid to kick-start the engine.

I am also concerned that said buyer has never ridden a clutch scooter before and will have no idea how to work it, but, hey, neither did I and I learned.

I do wish it had worked out better for me, but there’s always the fact that I took action and tried it out and gave it my best.  I took the Motorcycle Safety course, I got my licence, I learned how to drive a clutch and for a few moments I was riding a beautiful vintage Vespa.

You know.

Until I broke myself, well almost, I suppose a sprain is not a break–it’s worse, trying to start the thing up.

If it sells tomorrow I will be pleased and I will turn around and take myself up to Vespa San Francisco and see about getting a new one.

One that starts with a push of a button and a turn of a key rather than a kick starter.

I obviously won’t have enough money to be able to buy it straight out, but I will have enough from the sale of my own to be able to put down earnest money and then do a payment plan.

I have been looking at the Vespa as a forced savings account.

I would not have been able to afford to buy it out right from my friend, still owe two payments on it, but being able to pay a down payment and then do monthly payments with him was like saving for the real deal.

That’s the hope anyway.

Who knows what will happen.

Me and my perfect hair day are not going to worry about it all that much tonight.

I am here for another three and a half hours then a Lyft ride home.

A Lyft ride in and then out again.

It was nice to not have to ride my bike into work today, although it did feel a little strange to be riding in a car to work.  I also did not go straight into work, I headed over to Capp and 23rd street for a little doing the deal and saw some familiar faces I had not seen in a while and heard some good stuff.

I do miss my Friday night peeps, but that cannot be helped.

I also am a bit bummed that I will be missing Mike Doughty’s show for his album release of Stellar Motel is tonight at the Chapel on Valencia Street.

I thought it was next weekend when I said I would work for the family tonight.

Oh well.

Next time.

There’s no further news on the dating front either.

But that’s ok.

I still have my date lined up for Sunday and that gives me a week to take another action or five or six or whatever actions I need to take to let myself be asked out or make myself available for the next date in this dating game I am playing.

I was scrolling through my Facecrack friends and came across a few faces that I may have to ask out, some guys that I think would say yes, some that I am pretty sure if I said I was available would be down.

I feel that a lot of it, a lot of the dating thing, is just being available and getting out of my typical schedule and space.

I keep expecting to run into someone on the Mission while I am working, but then again, most of the folks I probably want to date have jobs during the day and aren’t hanging around the Mission playgrounds and neighborhoods.

I mainly see moms and other nannies in my line of work.

It’s not exactly the hot bed of dating.

In fact, much of the time when someone asks me what I do I wonder what they think.

Like it’s any of my business what someone thinks about what I do.

Sometimes this is the hardest job I have ever had.

And sometimes, like now, it’s pretty easy and sweet.

I’m sitting in the kitchen with a nice cup of tea on a very nice chair next to an exquisite table with pretty things all around me, being paid for my time, watching the monitor of two sweet little boys sleeping.

The rest is, however, well-earned.

It was quite a busy day for me since I started late and I was not able to do all the stuff that I normally do while the youngest one is napping.

I did show up to the house a little bit before the family got back from school pick up, so I was able to get a good start on things, but you know, I had to keep it moving.

And potty training, though not disastrous, was darn close and bath time was a big negotiation, but in the end when both the boys were snuggled into my lap in striped pajamas and we were reading Dr. Seuss’s “The Places You’ll Go” and one boy has his hand in mine stroking it softly and the other has his head underneath my chin, then well.

The perfect hair day was perfect.

I got to nestle with small, delectable humans and provide love and comfort and ease to them.

I’d say that’s a pretty damn good day.

Regardless of how my hair looks.

Tags: dating, friends, love, Lyft, Mike Doughty, Nanny, perfect hair day, postaday, scooter, Stellar Motel, Vespa San Francisco, vintage Vespa, work