Cheetos

    I arrive home from work, rushing around the house. The only thing on my mind is racing the sun to make it into the ocean and catch a few waves. I glance around my room for some kind of energy to fuel my surf sesh. A-HA! CHEEEETTOOOOOOSSSSSSS. I grab them and throw my gear in my car and start my short drive to the sand (and, mmm, WAVES!). Now, I hadn't eaten anything for lunch and it was going on 7 now. Good thing I grabbed them crunchy cheesies. So I pop that sucker open and start guh-ruuh-bbbbinnn. Looked like a maniac, just jamming hella cheetos down my gullet. The pointer and thumb getting an angrier orange by the second. I get to the bottom, but shoooot, I wasn't about to let those little guys get away! I tip that bag, as one eating cheetos does, to get all the glory. As the bag lowers past my field of vision I see I have drifted over into the other lane, almost HALF WAY! Satisfied eyes quickly turning into terrified and embarrassed eyes. "Damn, that could of been bad" I thought. I park and get suited, and have an aggressively mediocre session. 

 

Chester done did me dirty.

 


Dating in the 18th century

So I was just thinking about the whole thing about people losing their ability to socialize face to face, especially in a dating setting, and how tech is bringing us all down and whatnots. yadda yaddas. But, could you imagine what "dating" would be in the 18th century?! I imagine there would been a whole lot more pressure than now. No ignoring of texts there! You'd have to send a letter and wait for their response. Or jaunt on down on your horse down to their estate (obv, I have fantasies of where my standing in the 18th century would have been).  Everything would be all neatly packaged in flowery language. Choice of paper and pen, instead of which emoji to follow up your statement with.

"Hello Miss, The morning light of late has been painting something beautiful. I wonder, if you were up and smiling. Only such beauty could inspire our sun to splash a new orange on his clouds for the new day" 

And would they even really date different people?

Your parents would have to set up this whole thing where you all eat together for the first time. Stealing glances across the table from each other awkwardly. Talking about the family business. And how "Pa is doing quite well, Thank you Mr. Miller".  You stroll down by then pond skipping rocks, finally a moment alone, and you realize. You have nothing to talk about.  EEK! How horrible. Too bad. Your parents and her parents set this whole thing up. Gotta get hitched now!

This point of view got me thinking. We don't have it THAT bad. We've got a much larger pool to select from, and definitely more choice of ponds to stroll. I mean, we've got CARS now.  You may have to deal with an un-returned text or some miscommunication. But, overall, we have it much easier than those before us. If you want to go ahead and fb message your 10th grade crush and totally get ignored when you ask her out after weeks of flirty chats and catching up, you can totally do that now. Totally.

Key lime green selling dreams

So this guy walks into my office the other day:

"Hey, can I ask you a few questions?" he says

"...Don't worry it's nothing serious!" He follows up quickly. His hands up, with his palms facing me. He was sort of bouncing his weight from foot to foot to show it was all light hearted. 

He was probably around my age (28) wearing a key lime green dress shirt tucked into his pleated khakis, which billowed slightly at the pocket. His tie happily swaying in white, blue, and green plaid. Hair was wet down and combed to the right  to seem more professional.  

He was selling packages the peppermill, which is a resort in Reno (apparently, the only four star diamond rated property on the west coast..."a dream" he says). I had no interest in going there and I just realized (after a quick google search) that I actually had stayed there before! MY one and only trip to Reno.

I politely decline.

"You ever go to Carl's Jr?" he asks

"Not Much" I respond

"Ahh I see, you don't like burgers" he says on his way out. Tie following him on his shoulder.

I thought to myself, what a rough way to make a living. I don't know why he stuck in my mind for a while. I wondered why or how he got to that point. He must get rejected so many times a day. That sort of thing must wear on you.

You bump into people everyday and everyone has a story. I think of marbles cascading out of a jar. Where do they end up and which do they touch? Cincinnati? I can't even imagine what's going on there but there's a whole thing there. People selling dreams. People living dreams. 

I wanted to run out of the office to ask this guy who he was (If it weren't for obvious job responsibilities and social restrictions, HA!, I would have). I'm a fairly curious person and want to get to know you. I don't know if it counts as selfish. But, darnit! I GOTTA KNOW.

 

Leave a comment. Maybe, we'll have pie someday. 

 



Big baby of a man stinks up the place

   So me and my brother were fresh out of high school, maybe 19 and my dad was helping us pay for rent in a fairly expensive area. Money got tight so he requested we get a roommate to help out. Of course, being 19 and having our own place we didn't really want to have to share with some stranger. Eventually, my dad got mad at us for dragging our feet and gave us a deadline. Sooooo a couple Craigslist responses later we had our dude. Let's call him Dave. Because his name was Dave. Dave was a bigger dude from North Carolina (whom my friends not-so-lovingly nicknamed 'big d' during a drunken party at the apartment) who constantly had a huge pile of trash in his passenger seat and loved to make sweet tea. Always kept his head shaved. So he kind of looked like a gigantic baby of a man. It didn't help that his teeth were on the smaller side. Imagine a giant man with a big grin and little teeth. I don't know, but it was sort of odd looking. He was seemingly a nice guy. Kind of awkward and wanted to study Asian studies. (he once told me that egg rolls were Japanese, the fuhhh!? . Study harder broooo) That being the reason he moved to the bay area. All in all he had not raised any red flags, and I could dismiss all the aforementioned oddities. 

 

   Any who the first(not so obvious) problem. My brother and I tried hanging out and bonding with him. Took him to our favorite tea place and chatted. He weeaboo loved it. Our friend told us afterwards that he saw Dave's nut sack during our jaunt into the wonderful world of milk tea. Uhhhhh what. How. His jeans seemed to be new, but there was a hole cut right in the crotch area when he could let it all hang out. We thought, maybe, since he's on the bigger side. There's a lot of crotch wear, a lot of rubbing and wear going on. Possibly creating a hole. Subsequently, your nuts fall out your pants. Now, as to why he wasn't wearing any kind of underwear.. Who was I to judge a little freeballin!? Not too crazy, so we dismissed it.

   The second problem came with an alarming knock at the front door in the wee hours of the morning! Who could that be at such an hour? The police! Oddly enough, Dave was already up and at the door breathing heavy. Glasses getting foggy,loudly he booms "hold on, I'm putting on a shirt" (bad choice of words as you'll see. He was already dressed as well which made it even more strange) He urged us to go back to sleep. The police were not about that sleep life. They made us all file out while someone behind a bright light took a look see at us. They ended up cuffing big d and putting him in a car. Very puzzled and seriously thinking we should have screened our applicants a tad bit better we shuffled off to bed to catch what sleep was left in the early AM. Me and my brother found out that they were looking for someone who had flashed the garbage man. Fucking weird. Dots start connecting. We, for some reason, (money, definitely the money) let him back once he made bail.

   The third and final problem was a slow burn. He had gotten used to taking these long showers (when California had that good good water level nahh mean) and I said something about it. Because there was undoubtedly some instance that I needed to use the restroom and ,hey, he needed to be more conscious of the time. He then protested by NEVER SHOWERING. For like, a month straight. He always sat in the same spot on the couch in the living room. Ruined that couch forever. If you could bottle a healthy amount of B.O. and pour it ALLLLLLL over that corner. That's what it smelled like. The thing was he didn't say anything about his silent, retch inducing protest. We just sort of, found out. Passive aggressive comments about bathroom usage was peppered into conversation.  The tension and stench was so thick in the living room you could feel it. My brother and I had regular schedules while he came and went whenever. Not entirely sure what he did or if he went to school.

   So I come home one day, to the living room ransacked of my Xbox, all the games, dvds, a couple shoes, and a stronger stench lingering in the air. He had bleached our couch. Which looking back at, was for the best. (Oh, back track! He had also changed the lock to his room. Which was now, locked.) Called the police and filed a report. Nothing came of it. It was one of the first times in my life where I realized, not all justice is served. What a huge bummer. He had some other violation of streaking on the east coast filed as well. Maybe that's why he left? So we get a hack saw and saw the knob off. His room was completely emptied of his things. Except for some furnishings. He had blacked out the window with a sheet. The room smelled of mildew and big d disgustingness. And a single piece of paper left. It was a promotion flyer for a gay club in the city. We had no idea he was gay! Not that we had any problems with that. But it does explain the lingering looks at my brothers bare chest, post shower. We never found him or got any justice. But was glad to get him out and have my room back. Disinfected that place like crazy before sleeping in it again. Worst roommate ever.

Golden

His gold is faded. Fort knox couldn't have held on. My hands shake as they outstretch for him. I knew.  He felt so familiar and entirely different. His fur seems to shift, giving sick illusion to a breath taken. No. Its just the the morning light pouring into the room dancing on the tufts of his back. It keeps fooling me as I inch closer. Fool's Gold. This is much worse. An investment of the heart shattered like a piggy bank swollen with the change of everything you've ever done together. Scattered on the floor, here next to him.