Here I am at Cafe D, back in this pit of raw concrete, and the tall beauty that I asked so many people to help me find is here. I had to track down C– just to get her name, with which I did nothing. Learned that his mother died. Will I have the courage to approach her? After having hyped it up so much? I can’t ask her out right now, I can’t. She will immediately perceive how fucked up I am.
What is my plan? Walk back up St-Laurent to the package store; then to Popeye’s, then to—various bars along Mont-Royal?
I’m frozen on this bench. It’s not even a proper table, more like a staging ground; and yet I can’t move. Too afraid to approach her, and too afraid to leave without approaching her. Maybe I should just stay here forever. G– from R just walked by—what a prick. I am stressed!