tonight, the heartache's on me
[New Guy] makes some comment about handcuffing me to the chair next to him, and then later talks about Stadium S&M or something like that. I have naughty thoughts. Tim visits the press box; we chat. I have naughty thoughts. NSG sits down just in time for the first pitch.
M: What’s up?
NSG: I had a date today.
M: How’d that go?
NSG: A blind date. It was good.
M: Where’d you go?
NSG: Houston’s.
M: Wow…
NSG: We were supposed to go yesterday, but I got hit.
He gets up to go get stats or something. I sit and stare at the game and feel crushingly hurt. This makes me frustrated, because I want to feel something else. I want to feel happy for him, or mad at him, or hate him, or feel nothing at all. But instead, all I can feel is hurt. And that sucks. He comes back.
NSG: Why are you cranky today? You’re a little cranky. ... What’s wrong?
M: <shrugs> Nothing.
NSG: You’re lying.
M: No, I’m not.
NSG: You’ve got some issues.
M: No, I don’t, not any more than usual.
NSG: You’re lying to me.
M: I’m not lying to you.
NSG: You’re just mellow? ... No, there’s something.
M: Why can’t you just let it go? If you ask if something’s wrong, and I say nothing, can’t you just accept that?
NSG: No, because there’s something there. In a minute, you’re going to go, "Well..."
M: I mean— [and here I pause because I’m essentially doing just that] I could come up with something, but there’s not anything.
Then I won’t say anything, so he stops asking. But there are no good options for that conversation. If I tell him the reason I’m "cranky," which is that I want him and he doesn’t want me, and that hurts, then he’ll get upset. I know, because we’ve had that conversation. It got us nowhere. We just ended up sitting there, looking over each other’s shoulders and being generally uncomfortable. If I don’t tell him anything, he thinks I’m lying, which I'm not, exactly, since I said I didn’t have issues any more than usual, and that’s true enough. So I don’t know what to do. I would think it’s pretty obvious, though, why I’m upset, and even if it’s not, he’s a smart guy – he should know why I might not want to tell him things. Either it’s about him, or it’s something that’s really bothering me, and I don’t want him to trivialize it, which is what he’ll do.
So, he stops asking what’s wrong with me, but he still knows something is wrong. He keeps giving me fist bumps, and complaining that he doesn’t like "no fun Molly – NFM" and where did fun Molly go, and where’s his friend Molly? Once, he asks [Friend] where fun Molly went. [Friend], typically, has no response whatsoever to that, but does comment that NSG seemed to like the Chronicle reporter who was out at the ballpark earlier. NSG smirks.
NSG: She was 11.
M: But that works for you.
NSG: Nah. <shakes his head> Today I went straight up. 37. [Friend]’s just jealous because he’s never dated a former Oilers cheerleader.
F: <perks up> What’s this?
NSG: Well, it wasn’t a date. It was just lunch.
F: Oh, come on.
NSG: Really, it was just lunch.
F: Who was it?
NSG: I’m not saying. You wouldn’t know, anyway. 1985.
F: Well, no, but I know people who covered the team in 1985. I can find out anything you need to know.
NSG dispenses some more fist bumps and then asks if I’m tired of him yet, which I’m not. He starts talking about how [third baseman] is the best interview on the team, for light-hearted stuff, especially.
M: Could you do light-hearted?
NSG: <what-a-stupid-question look> No.
M: Could you ever?
NSG: No. Mean-spirited. Bitter.
M: Why do you like being mean so much?
NSG: Because it’s fun. ... Come on, give me some gossip. What’s going on with [Crush]?
M: I don’t know. He still won’t make a move, so I don’t know what his problem is.
NSG: Is he gay?
M: Well, he did seem pretty excited about the nude sunbathing with you.
NSG: I’m a hot man. Most men want me. ... Come on, I know you and [Roommate] get together and make fun of people, and you don’t tell me.
M: Not so much. ... We make fun of people on TV, like “For Love or Money.”
NSG: No, that doesn’t count. That’s not fun.
M: Yes it is.
NSG: I mean people you know.
M: Probably the last person was [New Guy].
NSG: He’s gotten so much better. It’s leaps and bounds.
M: Does everybody think so?
NSG: I don’t think so. ... (But) I think so. And that’s what counts. Oh, Molly, Molly, Molly, Molly. ... What am I gonna do with you?
Meanwhile, back at the game, there’s a call that [Manager] doesn’t agree with. He runs out to argue, and NSG does his impression, again. I think he mostly did it because he was trying to get me to smile, since I liked it so much on Tuesday.
Then he asks what I think about Sammy Sosa corking his bat. (I think that it’s being blown out of proportion – give it time and no one will care all that much. But it’s all over ESPN, how Sosa’s career has been forever damaged and his image forever tarnished.) We discuss.
NSG: And your dad was at the game [on Saturday] and he didn’t even call me to get down on the field?
M: Well, he was there with his college buddies. They were drinking.
NSG: So how’s the rest of your family? Aside from your drunk father who’s lying in the street, drooling?
M: Would you help him, if you saw him there?
NSG: Probably not...if he was wearing that powder blue.
M: What if he was wearing a Cubs jersey?
NSG: We did a bunch of interviews today, and I did nothing. Not a thing. I did the lineup card for the first time since 1993 today. No, 1994.
M: It looks good.
NSG: <looks at me like I'm an idiot> I didn’t do it. [Roommate] did. It’s the best. ... If we make the playoffs, you’re not working upstairs. You’re not even going upstairs. You knew that already, didn’t you? And I think, for the All-Star Game, I think you’ll be out there [in the outfield, for the overflow media].
M: So we’re talking about more than a year from now?
NSG: Yeah.
M: And you think I’m still gonna be here?
NSG: Yeah.
M: Are YOU gonna be here?
NSG: Probably not. But I like to plan, still. I’ll probably be in Nashville. ... Or Chicago. ... You know, the one place I always thought I’d be is the place that I’ll NEVER go back to.
M: You were gonna go back there?
NSG: Yeah. I mean, not to Dook, but I was gonna live in Durham. ... With her. <He’s staring at a girl who obviously has been surgically enhanced.> Why do you [girls] spend so much money on that? You spend all this money, and it’s fake. It’s fake skin.
M: I don’t know. I wouldn’t do it.
NSG: You don’t need to.
M: Well, no. It would give me back problems.
NSG: It would give you back problems. If YOU did that, well... <shakes his head> Love your body, Larry. ... Love your body, Molly. ... I was gonna say Larry, but I just...
NSG: I have to go on a diet. I’ve been told.
M: Why?
NSG: My cholesterol. Like, overall, it’s fine, but one of those other numbers, it’s high.
M: So what do you have to eat?
NSG: I just have to run more.
M: I guess you don’t want chocolate mousse anymore?
NSG: No. ... I mean, I still WANT it. There’s a difference between wanting and can’t-having. ... I’m the greatest chocolate lover of all time.
NSG: Let’s go to google and look up Molly Darnofall. What comes up?
M: Nothing good.
NSG: You’ve done it? You’re such a geek. <types in "Molly Darnofall; porn" but deletes the last word before [Friend] sees it>
M: What? You’ve never done it?
F: What happens if we type "NSG"?
M: You get ski videos!
NSG: It’s all those ski videos.
Game ends in 2:25. NSG says, "If Saturday’s game is 2:25, I’ll run through here naked."
Posted by Molly
at 12:01 AM EDT