Tonight was a good night.
It started off with seeing Kid Beyond, live-looping beatboxer extraordinaire, at the Living Room. Andrew was fantastic live as always. Alas, the Living Room was too small a venue for him – it ended up being standing room only as we were packed in like sardines at the back, and had a hard time seeing. But still pretty awesome.
Dylan’s friend Nate showed up, as did Nate’s friends Beth and Dan, so we all went out afterwards to The Library, a nifty little East Village bar, which was having Zombie night. Dan got painted up with zombie makeup, Evil Dead was on the big screen, all good.
Oh, and Beth was wearing a shirt that said Chicago Men’s Volleyball, so I asked about that, and it turned out it was her boyfriend’s, who she had met playing volleyball. When she found out I used to play, she was totally psyched, and recruited me to be a sub for her league team. It’s some stupidly large league (30 divisions of 10 teams each), so that should be a great way to meet some more people, especially since Beth promised to introduce me to her tall volleyball-playing friends.
Later on, we went next door to Julep, which had a pool table. Dan and I challenged on, and we won, which was awesome, especially after the two women we defeated told us that they had held the table for a few hours against all comers. I played a couple games, then passed on the table to others in our group. Dan put on 80s hair metal (there’s a Poison/Cinderella concert later this summer that he’s trying to talk me into attending), and then asked me what my favorite 80s hair metal band was. I went with Def Leppard, which he granted as pseudo-hair-metal, we put on “Pour Some Sugar on Me”, and everybody in the bar started rocking out. I need to get that album.
Anyway. Good evening. It’s nice having a crowd to go out with.
More tomorrow on identity – I had originally planned to write up some thoughts tonight, but it’s too late and I’m too tired.
4 thoughts on “A good night”
…and, in case that entry is locked to you, gentle reader, I include here the initial post, which relates to Eric’s comments about meeting tall volleyballers, above:
Found on a friend’s journal, in response to an account of her recent date:
Short girls can’t date guys who are over 6′ tall!! The tall girls NEED them!
Just kidding 😉
I know, it was only a joke, except that we all know that there is a real kernel of truth there, a bias we all acknowledge and accept. And more importantly, it’s a bias we feel, and that makes it rude to invalidate, because we feel what we feel and denying that would be unhealthy.
So instead, for every time I hear that tall girls need tall guys, I’m going to simply make it a mission to proclaim that athletic guys need thin girls. (Unless of course I can think of something more shocking to equate it to.)
But back on point: I expect that I look better with someone who is shorter than I than with someone who is taller. And when I dated Anneke (at perhaps 6’2″?) a few years ago, I found that a five-inch height difference takes some getting used to, which of course is experience that I previously only had in the other direction.
But when in college, I dated Astrid, who is three inches taller than I, and many commented that we were a great-looking couple, which of course we were, since she was simply lovely to look at. Regardless, what did I care? She was lovely, and not just to look at, and so what if my arm went around her lower back instead of her shoulders when we walked together?
I’m just saying: let’s at least recognize the bias as a bias, and accept that it might not be the best trait on which to base dating decisions. Then again, it very well might. But either way, it’s best to recognize it as such instead of simply accepting it as a universal truth.
I mostly threw that comment in there because many of my friends know that, if asked, a tall volleyball-playing blonde is my preferred physical type. I know it’s shallow and biased, and it’s neither necessary nor sufficient for dating purposes, but it’s definitely there.
And I’ll comment here as I commented on your original post: “Heh. Well, speaking as a member of the tall guy contingent (6’3″), I prefer dating tall women, because otherwise I feel ridiculously big. It’s interesting – I don’t actually think of myself as being tall or big, so it weirds me out when it becomes apparent”.
Doooood, I don’t want short people genes! It’s a family duty to breed with tall people to be able to field a full volleyball team of grandkids for my dad. Or something like that.