09/19/24

    This is the 4th time I chose to ask my Uber or cab driver to play the radio for me. 105.9 WQXR classical radio. I had gotten into a cab one night and decided against putting in my headphones. The radio was playing this classical station on a low volume. I asked the driver to turn it up and we happily listened together until I got out at my stop. I always wanted to be a late night radio show host. I love how their soothing voices announce the next song and the way they give little tid-bits about the pieces that just played.

    I dreamt about this exact thought just the other day. I was alone in a dark studio, spinning around in a swivel chair, announcing the next song while sipping on a cup of coffee. Simultaneously, I was the listener in a diner on a dark corner of some unknown street. Sipping on a cup of coffee.

    This morning I awoke from my third hyperreal dream this week. I tried to explain it to H as we got ready for work. Why is it so impossible to explain your dreams, even the ones you can remember?

5:45 pm

    M and I headed to Commerce for dinner. I had been in a funk. An alcoholic drink would help me. We ordered two Pink Punches and I tried to describe the process of a clarified milk punch to M to no avail. I got the lamb chops, she got the pork sausage. We cheers. We revel in the mood of the room. We went back and forth about our childhoods, about writing. The more we drank, the louder we became. Before we knew it, the sun had set and we were transported into a crisp autumn evening. The brown leaves on the tree outside the casement, were swaying from a soft breeze. The candlelight on the table gave us a warm embrace. I spilled all my insecurities. We left refreshed.

    Walking through the West Village headed to the F train, M honed in on a faint melody. Light piano playing was wafting out of an open window of the Greenwich House Music School; rising up into the night air. A concert just for us. In another room, someone's singing overpowered the piano, so we kept on.

8:15 pm

    After arriving at Asoko, M had one drink and got up to head out. I moved to the tatami mats in the back and drank, switching between sake and a shochu highball. P, a friend of A’s, came over and we make light conversation—so light that I felt as if I were whispering. I asked A if she’ll ever be able to go out again, thinking of our late night romps to places I can’t remember. She rushed off to a customer coming through the door. 

    P said goodbye and suddenly I felt lonely. I stepped out for a cigarette and a man passing by said I was beautiful. I went back in.

    Drinking my shochu soda and watching the start screen of Mario Party 64 play over and over, I listened to the conversation of the three men next to me speaking in Japanese; recognizing a few words but not putting them together.

    C came to my table and joked with me, pouring more sake into my glass. We discussed the way the music from the speakers sounded as if they were playing in another room. I realized I loved the calm atmosphere of Asoko over the chaos of Decibel and in that same moment I realized I was very drunk and ordered a car home. 

Curled up in the back seat of the Suburban, I asked the driver turn the radio on.


Playlist

Strasbourg / St. Denis - Roy Hargrove

String Quartet No. 14 in D Minor “Death and the Maiden” - Franz Schubert

Souvenir d’un lieu cher, Op.42: I. Meditation - Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Indian Summer - The Doors

Flowers - Galaxy 500


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