After the fantastic hug, she smiled at me and said, "...you smell nice..."
"Thank you.", I said as I returned the smile, genuinely touched.
"You smell like crayons..."
I SMELL LIKE CRAYONS!?
Woah! Whiplash! Wha-huh? I smell like crayons?! How does someone just smell like crayons? I do a quick assessment of the various smells that could possibly emanate from me. I showered recently, I used a powder fresh deodorant/antiperspirant, and I light spray of Axe. Perhaps a fiant taint of that philly cheesestaek, and I remember asking for no onions. Either way, I don't remember melting Crayolas upon me at any time. How does one just acquire the scent of a child's art box?
The internet is great for two things: porn and information, in that order. Time to use the world wide web as it was intended for finally. A quick "google" of crayons and smell supplied me with an interesting, if not scary, connection... reference to Volkeswagen cars. specifically, New beetles.
Yes, it seems that, for some odd reason, the VW new Beetles have this unique aroma: melted crayons. Could be worse, I suppose. If I had to choose a smell from a car to have on me 24/7, I guess this is acceptible. I mean, I've smelled a hell of a lot worse from the public. Young teens who think that washing once a month is passable if you just throw on a hoodie and a slanted ball cap. Olds people who obviously need to rinse once in the while. I've smelled musky BO long before a person arrives, and lingers in a cloud long after they leave.
Have you even been in a geek-ville comic book/hobbie store? Anyone who has can atest to this: the potency and horror of pungent body odor intensifies off the young customers, the farther back you go in the store. With the kids in the from brousing the comic racks having a bathless fume, to the career minature wargame battle mat player regulars, who have never seen the wet side of a bar of soap, nor will never know the sweet caress of a woman...ever...
I've even survived an old guy while working retail that smelled like a sack of crap. Trying to choke back the gag reflex and bile, while listening to his questions. Subtily manuvoring myself downwind or near a vent, just to get a breath, as he was oblivious to the power of his stench. The power to demolish mountains: just by pooping your own pants.
I was ready to blame my job, and sue their collective asses that they've somehow changed my DNA. That they've replaced my blood with Rose Art wax sented chalk. I knew working with office supplies would somehow mutate me. Why couldn't I smell like a ream of paper, wipe board erasers, or even the toxic fumes of a sharpie? Now THATS a coolass power!
I guess crayons aren't so bad, huh? If I smelled like caca, I'm rather certain that I don't think I would have gotten that hug. And, really, its kind of a nice feeling that when you pass by a "back to school" display at any market or store...
perhaps, someone will think of me.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Pomp and Circuses
Today, a great and wonderful thing was bestowed upon me. Christine invited me to her Graduation ceremony.
Considering she only had five tickets, she gave the rest to family, and she had lots of friends, to actually ask me If I could attend, was really a special moment for me. She once said that I particularly liked her because of the "spark" she gives me. She may be right.
Jesus, graduations have changed since I've been to school. She had a live band playing a rather decent "Pomp and Circumstance", everyone got flowers, video presentations, and finally, a fireworks display. It was like a circus, but without the smell of horse urine and clowns. And, that's always a good thing!
When I arrived, many of us invitees had to actually park in a bus stop lot a few blocks away, then we had to board a school bus to be driven to the stadium. It's been years since I've been on the yellow bus, and for old times sake, i took the seat right on the wheel hub. Also, because I think I'm a bit more flexible than many of the oldsters on that bus. All i need is someone with a broken hip to detour my journey.
I've never seen so many people stuffed into a small arena since my Police concert way back when! I have a thing about crowded spaces, but I wanted to be there for Christine. 400 graduating students, all with 5 tickets each: that's about 2000 people in a sardine can. I was going to bring her a rose, but the odds that I'd actually be able to find her in this...
Wait a sec. we're talking me. The master of mistiming and missed opportunities. So, of course, we find each other almost immediately. I give her a warm hug, tell her she looks fantastic, and wish her well as I go to find my seat. And since I have a long wait till her name is called, I start to remember my own graduation.
I remember how I thought it might turn out. The hopes I had for the perfect ceremony just like they have in the movies. I was going to ask my friend Wendii out. I thought it would be the perfect time! I had such a crush on her, and i think she liked me. But this...this was the moment that I finally would have the balls to actually say something. After all, this would be my last chance, or I'd never see her again.
I remember how screwed up it actually was. MY band was playing horribly, so much so, they played the "pomp" song from a cassette over the PA. Minutes before the ceremony, one of my best friends ran over a girl trying park his car. And yes, this girl was one of the popular 4.0 point average girls. It didn't help that he, himself, was the school troublemaker, and all of us pull as many strings as possible to get him to graduate. That sends a nice pall over the "happy proceedings".
I remember holding the hat of someone as we waited for our names to be called to the stage. I was looking away as I was trying to see above all the sad faces in the crowd. And I just recalled that the 6'2" guy I was holding the hat for was actually the boyfriend of the girl that got ran over, just as i felt a slight tug on the hat. I start to hand the hat over, not looking back at him, and wondering why he's leaning more towards me but not grabbing back the hat. it's getting crushed.
As I look back towards him to ask him if he's okay, I see the whites of his eyes...only. And his six foot form falls up top on me like a cut down tree, right into the muddy ground. So far a not so special day for me.
But it is for Christine. I can't see her anymore, but the names are whittling down to hers. And frankly, I sit up in anticipation, as I'm so happy for her.
After getting my diploma, and scraping the mud off my gown I make my way to the gym to see Wendii. After the day I having, at least I'm not going to miss this part. I can be crushed in mud all day, If I can just ask her out. That's all I wanted from today, that's why I'm here. And I see her there, and she's just beautiful with her short auburn hair, just standing there with the sundown reflecting behind her. I make my way up and I'm smiling from ear to ear, and I'm just going to say it. "wendii, "I'll say, "I really like you a lot, and I wanted to know If you'd just go out with me."
But I don't say it. I see the grief on her face. The sadness. And I don't...say it.
Remember the guy who ran over that girl in the parking lot? He was my friend, and he was Wendiis friend too. He was the one who introduced us. And just what the hell am I supposed to say now? "Sorry about that John did out there. So, wanna go out?" "Gee, I wonder if Johns okay and the girl is stable now. But forget all that! Can I have your phone number?" "Considering how selfish and tasteless I am, do ya think you'd be hot for me?"
No. Instead we talk about him, and she excuses herself because now she's incredibly depressed. And my world diverges from there. The what could have been and what became of me. And I never saw her again.
Christina hits the stage, and she smiles so big, it's simply beautiful as she throws her arms up in the air in triumph. I scream her name, knowing she probably wont hear it, and make my hands sore just by clapping the loudest I can. Fireworks go off, and I'm not talking figuratively.
As I make my way out of this claustrophobic stadium, I seek her out, but can't find her. I wait where we met the first time, but no ones there. And, really, it's not for me to ruin her evening by having my stupid face hanging around. Tonight, is her night, and she needs to make all her times for her friends. Don't miss your opportunities. Of this, I know.
I spend about 21 minutes texting her a simple message. I don't want to disturb her.
"Thank you for letting me be a part of your memory...good night"
And I walk back to the bus station...
When I feel an unexpected vibration in my pocket.
The text says: "You're welcome..."
Considering she only had five tickets, she gave the rest to family, and she had lots of friends, to actually ask me If I could attend, was really a special moment for me. She once said that I particularly liked her because of the "spark" she gives me. She may be right.
Jesus, graduations have changed since I've been to school. She had a live band playing a rather decent "Pomp and Circumstance", everyone got flowers, video presentations, and finally, a fireworks display. It was like a circus, but without the smell of horse urine and clowns. And, that's always a good thing!
When I arrived, many of us invitees had to actually park in a bus stop lot a few blocks away, then we had to board a school bus to be driven to the stadium. It's been years since I've been on the yellow bus, and for old times sake, i took the seat right on the wheel hub. Also, because I think I'm a bit more flexible than many of the oldsters on that bus. All i need is someone with a broken hip to detour my journey.
I've never seen so many people stuffed into a small arena since my Police concert way back when! I have a thing about crowded spaces, but I wanted to be there for Christine. 400 graduating students, all with 5 tickets each: that's about 2000 people in a sardine can. I was going to bring her a rose, but the odds that I'd actually be able to find her in this...
Wait a sec. we're talking me. The master of mistiming and missed opportunities. So, of course, we find each other almost immediately. I give her a warm hug, tell her she looks fantastic, and wish her well as I go to find my seat. And since I have a long wait till her name is called, I start to remember my own graduation.
I remember how I thought it might turn out. The hopes I had for the perfect ceremony just like they have in the movies. I was going to ask my friend Wendii out. I thought it would be the perfect time! I had such a crush on her, and i think she liked me. But this...this was the moment that I finally would have the balls to actually say something. After all, this would be my last chance, or I'd never see her again.
I remember how screwed up it actually was. MY band was playing horribly, so much so, they played the "pomp" song from a cassette over the PA. Minutes before the ceremony, one of my best friends ran over a girl trying park his car. And yes, this girl was one of the popular 4.0 point average girls. It didn't help that he, himself, was the school troublemaker, and all of us pull as many strings as possible to get him to graduate. That sends a nice pall over the "happy proceedings".
I remember holding the hat of someone as we waited for our names to be called to the stage. I was looking away as I was trying to see above all the sad faces in the crowd. And I just recalled that the 6'2" guy I was holding the hat for was actually the boyfriend of the girl that got ran over, just as i felt a slight tug on the hat. I start to hand the hat over, not looking back at him, and wondering why he's leaning more towards me but not grabbing back the hat. it's getting crushed.
As I look back towards him to ask him if he's okay, I see the whites of his eyes...only. And his six foot form falls up top on me like a cut down tree, right into the muddy ground. So far a not so special day for me.
But it is for Christine. I can't see her anymore, but the names are whittling down to hers. And frankly, I sit up in anticipation, as I'm so happy for her.
After getting my diploma, and scraping the mud off my gown I make my way to the gym to see Wendii. After the day I having, at least I'm not going to miss this part. I can be crushed in mud all day, If I can just ask her out. That's all I wanted from today, that's why I'm here. And I see her there, and she's just beautiful with her short auburn hair, just standing there with the sundown reflecting behind her. I make my way up and I'm smiling from ear to ear, and I'm just going to say it. "wendii, "I'll say, "I really like you a lot, and I wanted to know If you'd just go out with me."
But I don't say it. I see the grief on her face. The sadness. And I don't...say it.
Remember the guy who ran over that girl in the parking lot? He was my friend, and he was Wendiis friend too. He was the one who introduced us. And just what the hell am I supposed to say now? "Sorry about that John did out there. So, wanna go out?" "Gee, I wonder if Johns okay and the girl is stable now. But forget all that! Can I have your phone number?" "Considering how selfish and tasteless I am, do ya think you'd be hot for me?"
No. Instead we talk about him, and she excuses herself because now she's incredibly depressed. And my world diverges from there. The what could have been and what became of me. And I never saw her again.
Christina hits the stage, and she smiles so big, it's simply beautiful as she throws her arms up in the air in triumph. I scream her name, knowing she probably wont hear it, and make my hands sore just by clapping the loudest I can. Fireworks go off, and I'm not talking figuratively.
As I make my way out of this claustrophobic stadium, I seek her out, but can't find her. I wait where we met the first time, but no ones there. And, really, it's not for me to ruin her evening by having my stupid face hanging around. Tonight, is her night, and she needs to make all her times for her friends. Don't miss your opportunities. Of this, I know.
I spend about 21 minutes texting her a simple message. I don't want to disturb her.
"Thank you for letting me be a part of your memory...good night"
And I walk back to the bus station...
When I feel an unexpected vibration in my pocket.
The text says: "You're welcome..."
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Michael: At Wits End (part 2)
(part two)
Christina's smile disappears.
Trailers. Why does it have to be trailers?
And yes, she feels obligated to say what is okay, what sucks, whats funny, and whats stupid. I laugh at one trailer, because it was funny, and I get a silent stare from her.
Thankfully, she's a little excited by the Die Hard one. Good. Buys me some time. As causally talking is out of the question, at least some peace can be earned. I'm hoping when Pirates rolls up, she'll be so grabbed by the spectacle, it'll turn the whole night around. She likes Johnny Depp. She liked the first one, and most of the second. She is fisting a brew as the movie starts. She's out with someone who'll try to not annoy her (that's me). It's supposed to be spectacular. I know it will be, even at 3 hours. The way I see it, if I'm entertained at all for the amount of time required...I had a great day! Pretty simple really.
Then I hear: "oh, GOD!!!! When is this movie going to stop being boring..."
And I hear the sound of the lid being slammed shut on my coffin.
"This is so slow!" "That's stupid!" "That so wouldn't work!" "That looks fake" "This is as boring as Spider-man 3!" "Pour me a beer!" "How long is this movie?" "The first one was better!"
At one point she turns to me and asked what did Will say to Elizabeth. "He said he couldn't live without her..." I whisper in her ear.
"Heh?!"
"He said...HE COULDN"T LIVE WITHOUT HER"
She looks at me then throws her hands up in disgust. "I hate this love story. It's just like Spider-man 3! That ruined it all!"
I sink back down into the cushions and pray for the film strip to actually brake. At the two hour mark, I whisper to her I'll be back. Bathroom.
Let me tell you, I didn't really have to go the the bathroom. I have the bladder of a Olympian God...A GOD I SAY! Three hours is nothing. But I needed an excuse to just...get away for a bit. Even during a movie I really really wanted to see. This is just not happening.
I'm in the men's room sitting in an empty stall, thinking. Just thinking. What the hell went wrong? What went wrong? Oh my god, it's like being on a date with your cranky grandmother. And I bury my head in my hands. I've been here, sitting, standing, pacing the tile floor for 10 minutes. Any more than this and I either stretch credibility, or Christine will assume I really have terrible pee problems. I'm ready to have her assume that, actually.
I leave the bathroom and grab my ticket to get back in the theater, almost hoping, almost, that I can't find it and they wont let me back in. I see the exit out of the Cinetopia. I see windowed doors beacon outside. I see freedom. I see release. It would be so easy. But I open my hand, and see the ticket weighing heavy there. And, I feel so guilty for even entertaining the slight thought.
I have been told I am the "guardian healer". I stick by people no matter what. And sometimes, you pay the price. I know what it's like to not have people care about you. I know how it feels to have someone...anyone...care. Christina might be crude and unappreciative of me. Even abusive on some level. But I was...no, am...her friend because I am able to see beyond that. I see what she could be if she were honestly loved and cared for. that's my gift, people tell me. I tell them, that's my curse.
"Where were you?!", Christina asks a little too loudly in the darkened theater.
"I got you some popcorn." I say as I slide back beside her and put the greasy garlic and cheese bucket between us. I can't see her face in the dark, as my eyes haven't adjusted yet, but she's... quiet. Perhaps I cracked her shell with my compassion. Maybe...
"I told you I didn't want that! I'm trying to lose weight. And this beer sucks too!"
It's a long 45 minutes to the end credits.
As the credits roll, I tell her we gotta stay for the very end. I'd heard that there's a very cool coda at the very end. A can't miss moment. Will this redeem the...
"well, I'M not sitting here! I'm going. YOU can stay if you want!" And she pushes off to the lobby. I sigh and after a minute I follow. I want to be her friend. When i see her walking about, I meet up with her and she asks me if I saw the ending to the stupid movie. I lie and say I didn't feel like watching it, but my heart dropped.
I actually ran a red light and flipped an illegal u-turn to get her home. I asked her which housing unit was hers. It was the one...and I'm not kidding...with the old couch in the yard. Explains the beer, I guess.
I go home and ruminate. That and very pathetically look up a spoiler on the Internet on what exactly the Pirates ending coda was. I teared up a little bit when I read it, It was so bloody awesome...
_________________________
The next day at work. I see Christina talking to the others about our movie night and how much the Pirates movie was so awful (I liked it!). Then someone asked Christina if she enjoyed herself. She looks at me and gives me...a smile. Her eyes light up so much that it almost makes me forget yesterday.
"Oh yeah! Me and Mike had a great time! We gotta go see Hostel 2 together next week!"
Ah, 'Tina. Love the girl, but jeez... she did say she's paying though...
Christina's smile disappears.
Trailers. Why does it have to be trailers?
And yes, she feels obligated to say what is okay, what sucks, whats funny, and whats stupid. I laugh at one trailer, because it was funny, and I get a silent stare from her.
Thankfully, she's a little excited by the Die Hard one. Good. Buys me some time. As causally talking is out of the question, at least some peace can be earned. I'm hoping when Pirates rolls up, she'll be so grabbed by the spectacle, it'll turn the whole night around. She likes Johnny Depp. She liked the first one, and most of the second. She is fisting a brew as the movie starts. She's out with someone who'll try to not annoy her (that's me). It's supposed to be spectacular. I know it will be, even at 3 hours. The way I see it, if I'm entertained at all for the amount of time required...I had a great day! Pretty simple really.
Then I hear: "oh, GOD!!!! When is this movie going to stop being boring..."
And I hear the sound of the lid being slammed shut on my coffin.
"This is so slow!" "That's stupid!" "That so wouldn't work!" "That looks fake" "This is as boring as Spider-man 3!" "Pour me a beer!" "How long is this movie?" "The first one was better!"
At one point she turns to me and asked what did Will say to Elizabeth. "He said he couldn't live without her..." I whisper in her ear.
"Heh?!"
"He said...HE COULDN"T LIVE WITHOUT HER"
She looks at me then throws her hands up in disgust. "I hate this love story. It's just like Spider-man 3! That ruined it all!"
I sink back down into the cushions and pray for the film strip to actually brake. At the two hour mark, I whisper to her I'll be back. Bathroom.
Let me tell you, I didn't really have to go the the bathroom. I have the bladder of a Olympian God...A GOD I SAY! Three hours is nothing. But I needed an excuse to just...get away for a bit. Even during a movie I really really wanted to see. This is just not happening.
I'm in the men's room sitting in an empty stall, thinking. Just thinking. What the hell went wrong? What went wrong? Oh my god, it's like being on a date with your cranky grandmother. And I bury my head in my hands. I've been here, sitting, standing, pacing the tile floor for 10 minutes. Any more than this and I either stretch credibility, or Christine will assume I really have terrible pee problems. I'm ready to have her assume that, actually.
I leave the bathroom and grab my ticket to get back in the theater, almost hoping, almost, that I can't find it and they wont let me back in. I see the exit out of the Cinetopia. I see windowed doors beacon outside. I see freedom. I see release. It would be so easy. But I open my hand, and see the ticket weighing heavy there. And, I feel so guilty for even entertaining the slight thought.
I have been told I am the "guardian healer". I stick by people no matter what. And sometimes, you pay the price. I know what it's like to not have people care about you. I know how it feels to have someone...anyone...care. Christina might be crude and unappreciative of me. Even abusive on some level. But I was...no, am...her friend because I am able to see beyond that. I see what she could be if she were honestly loved and cared for. that's my gift, people tell me. I tell them, that's my curse.
"Where were you?!", Christina asks a little too loudly in the darkened theater.
"I got you some popcorn." I say as I slide back beside her and put the greasy garlic and cheese bucket between us. I can't see her face in the dark, as my eyes haven't adjusted yet, but she's... quiet. Perhaps I cracked her shell with my compassion. Maybe...
"I told you I didn't want that! I'm trying to lose weight. And this beer sucks too!"
It's a long 45 minutes to the end credits.
As the credits roll, I tell her we gotta stay for the very end. I'd heard that there's a very cool coda at the very end. A can't miss moment. Will this redeem the...
"well, I'M not sitting here! I'm going. YOU can stay if you want!" And she pushes off to the lobby. I sigh and after a minute I follow. I want to be her friend. When i see her walking about, I meet up with her and she asks me if I saw the ending to the stupid movie. I lie and say I didn't feel like watching it, but my heart dropped.
I actually ran a red light and flipped an illegal u-turn to get her home. I asked her which housing unit was hers. It was the one...and I'm not kidding...with the old couch in the yard. Explains the beer, I guess.
I go home and ruminate. That and very pathetically look up a spoiler on the Internet on what exactly the Pirates ending coda was. I teared up a little bit when I read it, It was so bloody awesome...
_________________________
The next day at work. I see Christina talking to the others about our movie night and how much the Pirates movie was so awful (I liked it!). Then someone asked Christina if she enjoyed herself. She looks at me and gives me...a smile. Her eyes light up so much that it almost makes me forget yesterday.
"Oh yeah! Me and Mike had a great time! We gotta go see Hostel 2 together next week!"
Ah, 'Tina. Love the girl, but jeez... she did say she's paying though...
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Michael: At Wits End (part 1)
This is the fantastic tale of terror and drunken adventure on the high seas of social interaction.
This, is the story of going to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End with...Christina.
Don't get me wrong, I like Christina. She's a good person, if somewhat lacking in social skills. And when we decided we'd see Pirates together, I didn't think anything more of that besides seeing a movie with a friend. But, on Friday night, hours before I was to pick her up, I got this...feeling...
A feeling of, almost...dread. And I was thinking perhaps I should call Christina and say that I couldn't make it. That I got a flat tire. That I shattered my skull in a freak hat accident. That my pants are caught on a nail that I can't extrude myself from. Anything. I'll gladly kiss off the tickets, but somehow, something was telling me...don't go...
But like any good mythological tale, the hero ignores the obvious foreshadowing and finds himself in dante's hell. I ignored the fact that Christina was getting more and more cranky and irritable at work. She snapped at me and barked orders. When she asked me a day before if I could also get tickets for her mother as well, I just ignored that request. Her recent obsession with her "ex-boyfriend", Ron. Now, this is a guy who she was going to leave and move out with her Mom to get away from the fact that the only reason she was still living with this person, who she loathes, is so that she can afford rent. Ever since he was arrested in another state for a baggie of "toke smoke", He's in jail for 70 some days and now...Christina misses him soooo much.
All of it was so clear. There was a signpost up ahead, and Rod Serling was welcoming me into the Twilight Zone. The Greek chorus was singing, and my spider sense was warning me on overtime with massive tingling. Yet, I found myself driving to Christina's to pick her up for a movie night.
As soon as she entered the cab of my Beetle, I was instantly intoxicated...by the fumes of cheap beer that waifed off of her. Turns out that she shared a few Pabst Blue Ribbon with her neighbor friend. After all, he bought himself a case. You have to be sociable when a creepy drunk guy who lives next to you offers you alcohol, right?
When we arrived at the theater, she clearly stated that we had better park near the front door, because she doesn't want to walk far. Remember when I said foreshadowing? This was fore-foreshadowing. This was the trailer the the film of how my evening would go.
As soon as I walked through the doors, Christina loudly exclaimed how she needs a drink. The theater we went to serves drinks in a "living room" setup. I think that's why 'Tina wanted to go here for Pirates. As we waited in line she got a menu and was immediately angry and irritated that there were only ales and not mixed drinks. She actually got a bit pissed at me because I didn't know. She complained loudly about that. She complained that we were in a line. she complained that we had BETTER be in the right line. She bitched about the living room theater setting. And there had better NOT be ANY trailers before the movie...She absolutely hates trailers.
After complaining about the location of the seats, and she did pick where she wanted to sit, she complained out the service. Y'see, this theater had waiters to get you food and drink. I was starting to get irritated by all this piss and vinegar she was dishing out. She either bitched about something, or she was ignoring that I was there. What fun. When I did get up:
"where are you going?!"
"um...going to the snack bar...want something? I can get whatever you'd like..."
"Are trying to get me fat?! Hell no I don't want anything. If I even small some of that that garlic butter popcorn, I won't be able to stop eating it and i won't lose enough weight for summer! Why are you even asking? "
"so...that's a no I guess...I'll be back then without any temptations..."
"...and get me a diet coke..."
I had more fun at the snack line at this point. Got us a drink and a pizza slice that I scarfed at the doorway of the theater. Didn't want to create temptation. made sure I had no evidence of food and walked back in with our drinks...
"Wheres the popcorn!!!!???"
"ba-wha...But you said you didn't want...."
"I know what I said! But I can smell the popcorn and I was hoping you'd get some anyway! That would have been thoughtful"
"I could go back if you wanted it now..."
"No...don't bother. How long till the movie starts anyway?
"18 minutes."
"Godammit!!! I'm getting sick of just sitting here!!!"
Eighteen very long minutes later, the room darkened and the tell tale pop of surround sound speakers turning on was a welcome noise. Christine actually smiled at me, as she adjusted her seat and positioned her liquor and diet Pepsi (thank god they had Pepsi...she hates coke). Maybe, this won't be so bad after all. Maybe, she'll be excited and happy about the movie. maybe this little negative patch has passed...
And then the trailers begin...
(End of part one)
This, is the story of going to see Pirates of the Caribbean: At Worlds End with...Christina.
Don't get me wrong, I like Christina. She's a good person, if somewhat lacking in social skills. And when we decided we'd see Pirates together, I didn't think anything more of that besides seeing a movie with a friend. But, on Friday night, hours before I was to pick her up, I got this...feeling...
A feeling of, almost...dread. And I was thinking perhaps I should call Christina and say that I couldn't make it. That I got a flat tire. That I shattered my skull in a freak hat accident. That my pants are caught on a nail that I can't extrude myself from. Anything. I'll gladly kiss off the tickets, but somehow, something was telling me...don't go...
But like any good mythological tale, the hero ignores the obvious foreshadowing and finds himself in dante's hell. I ignored the fact that Christina was getting more and more cranky and irritable at work. She snapped at me and barked orders. When she asked me a day before if I could also get tickets for her mother as well, I just ignored that request. Her recent obsession with her "ex-boyfriend", Ron. Now, this is a guy who she was going to leave and move out with her Mom to get away from the fact that the only reason she was still living with this person, who she loathes, is so that she can afford rent. Ever since he was arrested in another state for a baggie of "toke smoke", He's in jail for 70 some days and now...Christina misses him soooo much.
All of it was so clear. There was a signpost up ahead, and Rod Serling was welcoming me into the Twilight Zone. The Greek chorus was singing, and my spider sense was warning me on overtime with massive tingling. Yet, I found myself driving to Christina's to pick her up for a movie night.
As soon as she entered the cab of my Beetle, I was instantly intoxicated...by the fumes of cheap beer that waifed off of her. Turns out that she shared a few Pabst Blue Ribbon with her neighbor friend. After all, he bought himself a case. You have to be sociable when a creepy drunk guy who lives next to you offers you alcohol, right?
When we arrived at the theater, she clearly stated that we had better park near the front door, because she doesn't want to walk far. Remember when I said foreshadowing? This was fore-foreshadowing. This was the trailer the the film of how my evening would go.
As soon as I walked through the doors, Christina loudly exclaimed how she needs a drink. The theater we went to serves drinks in a "living room" setup. I think that's why 'Tina wanted to go here for Pirates. As we waited in line she got a menu and was immediately angry and irritated that there were only ales and not mixed drinks. She actually got a bit pissed at me because I didn't know. She complained loudly about that. She complained that we were in a line. she complained that we had BETTER be in the right line. She bitched about the living room theater setting. And there had better NOT be ANY trailers before the movie...She absolutely hates trailers.
After complaining about the location of the seats, and she did pick where she wanted to sit, she complained out the service. Y'see, this theater had waiters to get you food and drink. I was starting to get irritated by all this piss and vinegar she was dishing out. She either bitched about something, or she was ignoring that I was there. What fun. When I did get up:
"where are you going?!"
"um...going to the snack bar...want something? I can get whatever you'd like..."
"Are trying to get me fat?! Hell no I don't want anything. If I even small some of that that garlic butter popcorn, I won't be able to stop eating it and i won't lose enough weight for summer! Why are you even asking? "
"so...that's a no I guess...I'll be back then without any temptations..."
"...and get me a diet coke..."
I had more fun at the snack line at this point. Got us a drink and a pizza slice that I scarfed at the doorway of the theater. Didn't want to create temptation. made sure I had no evidence of food and walked back in with our drinks...
"Wheres the popcorn!!!!???"
"ba-wha...But you said you didn't want...."
"I know what I said! But I can smell the popcorn and I was hoping you'd get some anyway! That would have been thoughtful"
"I could go back if you wanted it now..."
"No...don't bother. How long till the movie starts anyway?
"18 minutes."
"Godammit!!! I'm getting sick of just sitting here!!!"
Eighteen very long minutes later, the room darkened and the tell tale pop of surround sound speakers turning on was a welcome noise. Christine actually smiled at me, as she adjusted her seat and positioned her liquor and diet Pepsi (thank god they had Pepsi...she hates coke). Maybe, this won't be so bad after all. Maybe, she'll be excited and happy about the movie. maybe this little negative patch has passed...
And then the trailers begin...
(End of part one)
Monday, May 21, 2007
What Happens on a Birthday?
After a restless night of trying to decide if it's actually safe to do anything on my Birthday, I am awaken by an angry cat sticking his poisoned fangs into my scalp. Seems it doesn't really matter what day it is, a cats gotta eat.
I figure lets see all the email benedictions I probably got! Yeah, sure, I don't usually receive any personal correspondence, but it's a birthday! And, I'm actually a little positive about this one. Sure, Heather doesn't want to be my friend anymore, even after I made sure she had the best Birthday she could possibly have. Sure, I torpedoed my own expectations as to not get disappointed (and ironically, I wasn't disappointed! How does THAT work, eh?). Sure I didn't expect any gifts or cards or cake, because of the global paper and foodstuffs shortages after the season finale of "Hells Kitchen". But I'm awkwardly positive that something might happily surprise me.
My first email? "Flush 20 pounds of excess out of your colon". How thoughtful!
The only birthday card i got was this one from Pepsi. I quite like the KatHead version, actually.
So I know the few people at my work wants me to meet them for drinks at Applebees later that evening, and I know that Christina will need a ride, so I waste my day away washing my car and driving around town. Now that I think about it, I think I was trying to defy my legacy of motor vehicles and special days. Around three o' clock, my phone rings, and I am MORE than excited! Someone is calling me today to wish me a Happy Birthday!! Is it my family? Is it my friends? Is it going to be a grand day? I snap open the phone and almost yell enthusiastically a "Hello?"
And I hear the voice of Clint Eastwood who just swallowed some razor blades and a bottle brush.
"ugh..er...hello? ...Mike? ...I just woke up..." my god....that's Christina?
It seems she was out all last night with her friends and went to two bars getting drunk. She's a bit hung over, and she's going back to sleep to see if her head will settle. I'm to call her at 4pm to wake her. Well, the birthday is starting out with some texture, isn't it?
So, I dress up very nice and shave and clip and comb and delouse. I'm brilliant! And i text Christina who gives the go-ahead for a pickup. She'll meet me in a 711 parking lot, which is a good thing if I need some rolling papers, a seven dollar can of ravioli, or a tube stake cheeseburger in a flat second. we then travel to Applebees, and the car is unusually quiet. I'm guessing she's a bit dehydrated. But she did have the strength to tell me that she needs to be home by 8pm to possibly receive a phone call from Ron, her "boyfriend" who's on day 14 of a 70 day jail time session.
Let me tell you this: I have found that nothing is much more annoying than those Sidekick phones. All the evening from the car to the restaurant, Christina would whip out her sidekick and flip about the screen to see if anyone would call. She'd sometimes thumb type a massive message back to some anonymous person.
As soon as we arrive, she calls to see where everyone is at. They're going to be a hour or so late. Meantime, Christina is producing that damn Sidekick out of midair every few minutes. I'm just sitting there with nothing to say and feeling very alone. At one point Christina excuses herself and retreats outside for a smoke and a texting session.
the waiter comes up and starts to clear the table of all the silverware except for my own, and I say that there are six people showing up. Just then I see how pathetic i must look, all dressed up and sharing a big table with my imaginary friends. He gives me a look like, "of course you are, sir..." and goes off...just as Christina comes back.
"Did you order drinks?" Well, no I didn't
"We need to order drinks and food now while it's happy hour!" And she attempts to yell across the restaurant they we need service here. She orders two drinks as to save time. A bit of the hair of the dog, methinks. God, why do I even hang with her? It's like traveling with a boozy pirate.
Everyone starts to arrive, and Christina needs to leave now, as it's almost time for "The Ron Might Call from the Bighouse Show". She calls her mom to pick her up, it seems she planned this long before my actual "party", as her mom is there and awaiting for her outside. Now that's service. We have Kathy arrive, and I never knew how much that lady can knock back! She orders one drink, only to declare it isn't strong enough, and gets another one that's enough to make a hobo go blind! She orders two!
Arlene, my co-worker manager, arrives, but says she can't stay longer than one drink and some food to go. Yesterday, I asked Chris if she would show up. Who's Chris, you might ask? She's someone new at work who I find actually truely fascinating. I don't quite get a handle on her yet, but it's clear to me that it'll be interesting to find out eventually, and so far, she'd be the only person that would've actually talked to me here, and not two-fist a drink first... I ask Arlene if she's coming too.
Arlene kicks back her Manhattan, "Oh, she had a better offer." My heart sunk as I see everyone devour the appetizers. I don't blame Chris, as she told me later, that her friends were awaiting for her outside. It would have been cool, that's all.
Finally, as the waiter arrives to dish out the bill, Kathy speaks up, "It's Mikes Birthday. What do you guys do for that? Something free? A cake with candles? You sing happy Birthday?" At this point, I'd even go for what happened last year.
The waiter gave a squinty look, "Uh, we don't have candles due to fire regulations..."
"Well, do you sing happy birthday?"
"Um...no we don't..."
"Jesus...what do you have for a treat for him?"
My "treat" was a simple glass of vanilla Ice Cream and a straw.
I go home, make myself a swanson dinner and watch TV with the cat poking at the potatoes in the pocket of the black plastic tray.
And I think to myself, well, I didn't die, crap my pants, get set on fire, have a girlfriend cheat on me or brake up, smash up my car... And I'm having a nice warm dinner with my furry friend...
It wasn't such a bad day after all.
I figure lets see all the email benedictions I probably got! Yeah, sure, I don't usually receive any personal correspondence, but it's a birthday! And, I'm actually a little positive about this one. Sure, Heather doesn't want to be my friend anymore, even after I made sure she had the best Birthday she could possibly have. Sure, I torpedoed my own expectations as to not get disappointed (and ironically, I wasn't disappointed! How does THAT work, eh?). Sure I didn't expect any gifts or cards or cake, because of the global paper and foodstuffs shortages after the season finale of "Hells Kitchen". But I'm awkwardly positive that something might happily surprise me.
My first email? "Flush 20 pounds of excess out of your colon". How thoughtful!
The only birthday card i got was this one from Pepsi. I quite like the KatHead version, actually.
So I know the few people at my work wants me to meet them for drinks at Applebees later that evening, and I know that Christina will need a ride, so I waste my day away washing my car and driving around town. Now that I think about it, I think I was trying to defy my legacy of motor vehicles and special days. Around three o' clock, my phone rings, and I am MORE than excited! Someone is calling me today to wish me a Happy Birthday!! Is it my family? Is it my friends? Is it going to be a grand day? I snap open the phone and almost yell enthusiastically a "Hello?"
And I hear the voice of Clint Eastwood who just swallowed some razor blades and a bottle brush.
"ugh..er...hello? ...Mike? ...I just woke up..." my god....that's Christina?
It seems she was out all last night with her friends and went to two bars getting drunk. She's a bit hung over, and she's going back to sleep to see if her head will settle. I'm to call her at 4pm to wake her. Well, the birthday is starting out with some texture, isn't it?
So, I dress up very nice and shave and clip and comb and delouse. I'm brilliant! And i text Christina who gives the go-ahead for a pickup. She'll meet me in a 711 parking lot, which is a good thing if I need some rolling papers, a seven dollar can of ravioli, or a tube stake cheeseburger in a flat second. we then travel to Applebees, and the car is unusually quiet. I'm guessing she's a bit dehydrated. But she did have the strength to tell me that she needs to be home by 8pm to possibly receive a phone call from Ron, her "boyfriend" who's on day 14 of a 70 day jail time session.
Let me tell you this: I have found that nothing is much more annoying than those Sidekick phones. All the evening from the car to the restaurant, Christina would whip out her sidekick and flip about the screen to see if anyone would call. She'd sometimes thumb type a massive message back to some anonymous person.
As soon as we arrive, she calls to see where everyone is at. They're going to be a hour or so late. Meantime, Christina is producing that damn Sidekick out of midair every few minutes. I'm just sitting there with nothing to say and feeling very alone. At one point Christina excuses herself and retreats outside for a smoke and a texting session.
the waiter comes up and starts to clear the table of all the silverware except for my own, and I say that there are six people showing up. Just then I see how pathetic i must look, all dressed up and sharing a big table with my imaginary friends. He gives me a look like, "of course you are, sir..." and goes off...just as Christina comes back.
"Did you order drinks?" Well, no I didn't
"We need to order drinks and food now while it's happy hour!" And she attempts to yell across the restaurant they we need service here. She orders two drinks as to save time. A bit of the hair of the dog, methinks. God, why do I even hang with her? It's like traveling with a boozy pirate.
Everyone starts to arrive, and Christina needs to leave now, as it's almost time for "The Ron Might Call from the Bighouse Show". She calls her mom to pick her up, it seems she planned this long before my actual "party", as her mom is there and awaiting for her outside. Now that's service. We have Kathy arrive, and I never knew how much that lady can knock back! She orders one drink, only to declare it isn't strong enough, and gets another one that's enough to make a hobo go blind! She orders two!
Arlene, my co-worker manager, arrives, but says she can't stay longer than one drink and some food to go. Yesterday, I asked Chris if she would show up. Who's Chris, you might ask? She's someone new at work who I find actually truely fascinating. I don't quite get a handle on her yet, but it's clear to me that it'll be interesting to find out eventually, and so far, she'd be the only person that would've actually talked to me here, and not two-fist a drink first... I ask Arlene if she's coming too.
Arlene kicks back her Manhattan, "Oh, she had a better offer." My heart sunk as I see everyone devour the appetizers. I don't blame Chris, as she told me later, that her friends were awaiting for her outside. It would have been cool, that's all.
Finally, as the waiter arrives to dish out the bill, Kathy speaks up, "It's Mikes Birthday. What do you guys do for that? Something free? A cake with candles? You sing happy Birthday?" At this point, I'd even go for what happened last year.
The waiter gave a squinty look, "Uh, we don't have candles due to fire regulations..."
"Well, do you sing happy birthday?"
"Um...no we don't..."
"Jesus...what do you have for a treat for him?"
My "treat" was a simple glass of vanilla Ice Cream and a straw.
I go home, make myself a swanson dinner and watch TV with the cat poking at the potatoes in the pocket of the black plastic tray.
And I think to myself, well, I didn't die, crap my pants, get set on fire, have a girlfriend cheat on me or brake up, smash up my car... And I'm having a nice warm dinner with my furry friend...
It wasn't such a bad day after all.
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