Seduction in Fall
by Georgia Hardstark
By the time I parked my car and headed in the direction the music was coming from, the rain had stopped for the evening. Everything had a blanket of crisp, freshness over it, and it reminded me how much I adore Fall. I inhaled the smell of roasted peanuts and swiftly passed the funnel cake booth, promising myself a stop later in the evening once I had found a friend to share one with.
I was alone, it was dark out, young couples pushing strollers and adolescents buzzing from the excitement of being free from parental guidance passed me as I made my way to the stage. There, I found a smattering of friends in the audience, and a large collection of musicians on stage playing the kind of folksy music that’s impossible not to sway to, and fills the air that already feels weightless and light from the excitement surrounding the street fair.
To me, this night is the beginning of Fall. Yes, it’s been weeks since the season officially started, and I’ll admit to cursing the retail stores that started setting out Halloween paraphernalia in early September, but suddenly, inexplicably, it feelslike Fall. I love this season, it’s my favorite of them all, and I’m always too distracted by little strappy vintage dresses and sun-kissed shoulders that Summer brings to fully remember how completely seductive Fall is.
The city looks different with a layer of cloudy, overcast darkness. That anticipation right before a storm starts, the first tiny drop of rain hitting your nose and sending you back inside for an afternoon nap. A nap is such a guilty pleasure when it’s raining…so much easier to justify than when it’s sunny and beautiful out.
I always fall in love during this time of year. The weather is so conducive to it. Last year it was with a guy whose eyes were like dark pools. They hid everything he thought and felt deep below, which I later realized. He’d smell my skin while we’d lay, fully clothed, on my bed. The window would be open and the sound of the pelting rain on the tin-roofed awning outside was deafening at times.
Ours was a confusing friendship that only went beyond that a couple times. I’d wait with baited breath for his next phone call, or a knock on my bedroom window. He’d leave little notes tucked under the blades of my windshield wipers. They were meaningless, but I’d cross my fingers in hope every time I approached my car.
It faded pretty quickly. One minute I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and the next minute we were just friends, honestly and purely. My desire for him went out the window as quickly as it had started the first night we met – a night we stayed up til dawn and rode our bikes along a deserted Sunset Blvd. He fed me mushrooms from a beat-up baggie the night before Thanksgiving. I drew pictures in a sketchbook and giggled on his couch while he put on record after record, occasionally forcing me to stand up and dance to a particularly catchy Smiths song. He’d sing along and twirl me around the room. By then we had the close platonic relationship that only comes after having made someone cry.
Who will it be this year? Whose hand will I hold when running through the rain, laughing and trying in vain to reach the car before we get soaked? He’ll fumble with his keys to open my door while I jump up and down and exclaim “hurry, hurry!”. My bangs will be plastered to my forehead and I’ll reach over from the passenger seat and unlock his door. Whose face belongs to the lips I can clearly picture myself kissing in my dark bedroom. The sound of the rain hitting the leaves of the giant tree outside my bedroom will eclipse everything else, as the warm pajamas we had put on before bed – as an act of best intentions – are shed. What will he feel like? What will he look like? Best of all, what will he smell like?
This is why I love Fall.
Georgia Hardstark is the contributing editor to This Recording. She tumbls here.
“The One I Love” – The Flaming Lips (R.E.M. cover) (mp3)
“I Predict A Riot” – Kaiser Chiefs (mp3)
“Jaded” – Girl Alliance (mp3)
PREVIOUSLY ON THIS RECORDING
Thea Lim on Wes Anderson’s Jungle Fever.
A tense encounter with my homophobic cousin Marly Guthrie.
Tess demonstrates how easily an acting class can get you laid.