Or, as some of my friends used to call him, U.A. He was my first major crush. I was 16. I met him at Jamaican Blue Coffee House, my favorite hangout through high school. He was tall and skinny and ate like a dinosaur… mostly because his neck was too skinny to really support that big head! He wore black fly sunglasses with clear prescription lenses and his teeth were at war with each other. Normally teeth are a big deal to me, since I come from 5 generations of dentists. In fact, the number one thing my dad points out on women is their “nice teeth”…but for some reason The Ugly Artist's teeth didn’t bother me.
My friends all told me I could do better…but I was smitten. They can be gangly, awkward, and weird…but if they are funny or talented, they have a chance with me. Especially if they tell me I’m beautiful. Then I am pretty much sold! Its amazing how some things never change!
He worked at the coffee house and sold his art there. His paintings were painful and disturbing, and I was intrigued immediately. He painted women spitting out their souls and devils and anything else morbid. Obviously, I was inspired… a way to be more dramatic at 16. Ummm….Heck yes!
At the time, I had wounded bird syndrome, I wanted to save everyone and love the heck out of them. And his paintings told me that he needed to be saved! Not to mention I was going through a deep and brooding time in life. You know how it is when you’re young, no one really understands you… except for maybe an Ugly Artist.
So, I would hang out as often as possible when he worked and would sit at the counter and draw, and smoke to look cooler….and older. (no worry, I have since quit). He would tell jokes, and I would laugh like it was the funniest thing I had ever heard…lets be honest though, I find lots of things hilarious, including myself. Haha (point made).
He drew me an eye on a napkin, it said “I cant help but look deep into your eyes”. He would also whisper in my ear that I was the most beautiful girl in the place. I might have been the only girl in there… but I didn’t care, he told me I was beautiful…even if just by comparison to men, or coffee grinds. I am a sucker for sweet nothings! (boys...please don't take the use of the word 'sucker' out of context!)
Now you can see why I was in love. Ok, maybe not love, but at the time I was positive we would marry and have 2 kids and 2 dogs and live happily ever after. Even though I was deep and brooding I still wanted the picket fence fairytale. (By the way, I still have that napkin)
He eventually moved to New York City to pursue his art….and I was crushed. But don’t worry I got to make out with him once about a year later (when I was 18..in case you were concerned)….and then, well, I was over it.