When I was a senior in college, my two friends and I were looking for a house to live in for the year. We had waited until last minute, so we assumed that the pickings would be slim. However, we ended up getting very lucky. We found a large, 5 bedroom house right in the center of downtown Fredonia. The landlord charged on a per-person basis, and they usually rented the house to a minimum of 4 students per semester. But, because it was last minute, they agreed to give it to the 3 of us. We were ecstatic for a bunch of different reasons. For one, the house had a ton of space to have parties if we wanted to. Also, since it was in the center of downtown Fredonia, it was right next door to all of the downtown bars. During the week I was very into my school work, but on the weekends I enjoyed going out.
Anyways, I was leaving the house one evening when I seen a skank through the window in the door. (Oh yeah, I should probably mention the fact that I have always referred to skunks as "skanks". I have a nickname for everybody) We always kept our garbage can just outside the front door, and he was apparently very interested in it. It was impossible for me to leave the house because he was right in the way. We had a back door, but we had never used it once. The backdoor was in the cluttered basement and it led to an extremely dark backyard. I considered this for only a moment, since I already knew there were skanks out, so I quickly ruled out that option. The backyard was a wooded area, which was probably where the skanks lived. I didn't want to run into another skank or the one on the porch if he ended up fleeing.
It didn't matter, I wasn't going to go out the back because of some stupid skank! It was time for him to take his stank-ass someplace else. I wasn't going to lose to a skank, he was the one who was in the wrong here. It didn't matter how powerful his stench could be, there is no way he was going to beat me. I paid a lot of money to live there, he was going to be the one to leave. And it was going to be his choice whether we were going to do this the easy way or the hard way.
I began to tap on the door to try to startle him to run off. For some reason, this was not working. And so I tried flickering the outside light and rapping on the door even harder, but it didn't work. I tried this for a good 15 minutes or so. I always thought that skanks were easy to scare away. This was not the case. I wanted him to leave, but I really didn't want him to spray. I opened up the door just a crack and hollered at him gently. "Pssst, get out skank". I tried to reason with him in a man-to-skank method. I tried to talk to him in a reasonable method. "Please Mr. Skank! I have places to go"! I closed the door and kept flickering the light and banging on the door. But he just would not leave!
After about 20 minutes of this, I gave up. I had become infuriated and I no longer feared the wrath of his powerful spray. We were going to do this the hard way, he had asked for it. I quickly scoured our house for a weapon that I could use without getting too close to him. I finally decided upon a claw hammer. I told my roommate Kevin to open the door, and I was going to throw the hammer at him from about 3 feet away. Then, Kevin was going to quickly close the door. We had a small coat room and a double door, so we would close that one too. I knew that he would definitely spray, but I assumed that the double doors would be plenty to shield us. At this point I just didn't care, it was far more important to me that I inflict pain on the skank. I did not fear some stupid little skank, he needed to pay!
And so we went on with our plan. Kevin opened the door just enough, and I threw the hammer at him as hard as I could! I heard a loud "Thud" coupled with a very small "yelp" the skank had let out. It was a very rare animal sound, I had no idea that skanks even made a noise. It was a direct hit, and I'm sure that it had hurt him very badly. But, I can assure you that I felt absolutely zero remorse. We quickly closed the door, and then the double door. But it didn't help one bit. The stench was so powerful that I can smell it all the way in the back of my brain, even now as I reflect back on it. In just moments we were all the way in the back of the house holding our noses. We could see a large group of people outside through a side window, they were all running and screaming while holding their noses. It is impossible to describe the strength of the stench in its rawest form, but we had to leave. It was simply overwhelming. We ended up going down into the basement and fleeing from our own house.
We went to Walmart because we knew that we needed to get something for the front door. We were positive that the front door had taken a direct spray. We had no idea what to buy. All we knew for sure, was that we couldn't splash tomato juice all over the front of our house. Tomato juice was the only anti-skank repellent that we were aware of. I knew that it was all my fault, and so that it was going to be my responsibility to remedy the situation. I ended up buying a large jug of powdered bleach. When we got home it still smelled like absolute skank-ass. I splashed a bucket of water on the door and then through a large amount on powder bleach on it. I left it there for a few hours and then repeated. Our whole house stunk really bad for a few days. We ended up having to wash all of our clothes and the door smelled like skank residue for the better part of the semester.
It sucked. But, I am willing to bet that the skank ended up having far worse repercussions from the incident. And that, my friends, is called "winning"! We never had any skank problems ever again. This leads me to believe that he probably told his friends about me. And when he did, I hope that he referred to me as "an enforcer" who does not fear their kind one bit.
I thought about it a while later, and I still felt no remorse. That skank was sniffing around my garbage like his shit didn't stink. Wait, let me re-phrase that, he was strolling around our garbage like his shit did stink. In fact, thought that his shit stunk so bad that he was invincible. This, however, was not the case. While his shit did in deed smell far worse than a burning tire, it does not make him invincible.
I have often heard the old phrase; "Sometimes you have to crack some eggs to make an omelet". Well, I have a new quote to live by; "Sometimes you have to smell some shit to get rid of the poop".
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(I wrote this story, and then 2 days later I recorded this video)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWPYeBUPlNk
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
The origin of Len
Ever since I can remember, I have always been addicted to giving people a nickname. For some reason, I don't call any of my friends by their government name. If we are close friends, chances are that I call you by a pseudonym. My closest of friends have multiple nicknames. If you were to scroll through the list of contacts on my cell phone, you would wonder what planet I lived on. That is because you would find names like "Third" and "Wizzle". All of my close family members have nick names too. My mother is "C.R." and she is married to "Ricky Martin". My brothers are "Bruce or Ban" and "Lenald or Len".
Believe me, they all have perfectly good explanations for such. Every time my mother gets an invoice or any type of professional related document in the mail, it has always addressed to "C.R.", instead of Catherine. I have no idea why and for some reason I have never bothered to ask. My brother Dave has always been "Bruce", for two reasons. First of all, it is his middle name. But the main reason is because of his similarities to Bruce Banner.
Bruce Banner is the mild-mannered gentleman who becomes The Incredible Hulk when he gets very angry. It is much like Clark Kent is the human version of Superman. Anyways, my brother Dave has always been the "Jekyl and Hyde" type, much like Brue Banner. My brother Ian has been "Len" because of a funny (Its funny now anyways) story from when we were kids.
Up until the end of 6th grade, I had a bit of a speech impediment. I used to have a difficult time producing the "R" sound. It was very embarrassing at times, I hated it. Anyways, this one day when I was about 7 and Ian was 10, we were at church. We were in a Sunday school class and the teacher took attendance each week. On this particular week, he didn't call my name and so I got concerned. I told him that he forgot me, and he asked me for my name. I told him my name and he said "Lenalds"? And then he began scanning his attendance list. I quickly corrected him, but he again heard;"Lenalds" due to my speech problem. He told me that he didn't have me on his attendance sheet. I kept telling him that it is Dan "Reynolds", but he kept saying "Lenalds".
I was getting very frustrated. Meanwhile, my brother Ian is literally standing 1 foot away from me, laughing hysterically. I pleaded with him; "Will you please tell him my name"? I felt like I was speaking a foreign language. I can't imagine how frustrating it must have been for my immigrant friends growing up.
My brother just kept laughing and saying "Lenalds". Eventually, he told the guy my last name, but he never let me live it down. From that point on, he has always referred to me as "Lenald", or just "Len". Then, for some reason I started calling him "Lenald" too.
Anyways, when I was in 6th grade, they made me take a speech class. I hated it because they would force me to go during study hall two days per week. I never went and so they would have to call me out of study hall each time. It was really embarrassing to get called out for it, I always felt like an idiot for having to go. But looking back at it now, I'm glad that they made m go. When I see grown folks who have a speech impediment, they look silly. It I difficult to look past it with some people, they seem less intelligent for some reason.
Believe me, they all have perfectly good explanations for such. Every time my mother gets an invoice or any type of professional related document in the mail, it has always addressed to "C.R.", instead of Catherine. I have no idea why and for some reason I have never bothered to ask. My brother Dave has always been "Bruce", for two reasons. First of all, it is his middle name. But the main reason is because of his similarities to Bruce Banner.
Bruce Banner is the mild-mannered gentleman who becomes The Incredible Hulk when he gets very angry. It is much like Clark Kent is the human version of Superman. Anyways, my brother Dave has always been the "Jekyl and Hyde" type, much like Brue Banner. My brother Ian has been "Len" because of a funny (Its funny now anyways) story from when we were kids.
Up until the end of 6th grade, I had a bit of a speech impediment. I used to have a difficult time producing the "R" sound. It was very embarrassing at times, I hated it. Anyways, this one day when I was about 7 and Ian was 10, we were at church. We were in a Sunday school class and the teacher took attendance each week. On this particular week, he didn't call my name and so I got concerned. I told him that he forgot me, and he asked me for my name. I told him my name and he said "Lenalds"? And then he began scanning his attendance list. I quickly corrected him, but he again heard;"Lenalds" due to my speech problem. He told me that he didn't have me on his attendance sheet. I kept telling him that it is Dan "Reynolds", but he kept saying "Lenalds".
I was getting very frustrated. Meanwhile, my brother Ian is literally standing 1 foot away from me, laughing hysterically. I pleaded with him; "Will you please tell him my name"? I felt like I was speaking a foreign language. I can't imagine how frustrating it must have been for my immigrant friends growing up.
My brother just kept laughing and saying "Lenalds". Eventually, he told the guy my last name, but he never let me live it down. From that point on, he has always referred to me as "Lenald", or just "Len". Then, for some reason I started calling him "Lenald" too.
Anyways, when I was in 6th grade, they made me take a speech class. I hated it because they would force me to go during study hall two days per week. I never went and so they would have to call me out of study hall each time. It was really embarrassing to get called out for it, I always felt like an idiot for having to go. But looking back at it now, I'm glad that they made m go. When I see grown folks who have a speech impediment, they look silly. It I difficult to look past it with some people, they seem less intelligent for some reason.
Friday, February 14, 2014
July 4th, 2001
Picture it. 18
year-old girls parents are out of town for the 4th of July. She
lives on the outskirts of town where the houses do not hug each other. The back
yard is large and it provides the perfect setting for a huge bon-fire/multiple
keg party. She invites dozens of her friends, and the stage is set.
I remember that
the first person I seen as I approached the already roaring inferno was a kid
named Larry Zimmer. It was a pleasant surprise; I hadn't seen him since middle
school. He used to live across the street from me in 6th and 7th
grade. We would walk to school together and smoke cigarettes; we were just
wicked cool like that.
Although we
walked to school together, we seldom hung out besides that. His parents were
really strict, especially his dad. They didn't like him and his little brother
out running the streets. I think I have only been inside his house with him once or twice
ever, and it was only for a few minutes because his parents weren't home. He
fancied himself as quite the bad-ass back then, I suppose we both did. But I
remember one day he came home late and his dad went off on him verbally, right
on the front porch. He made him take his earrings out immediately. Apparently,
the earrings were a privilege to wear, and breaking a 7 pm curfew meant that he lost them. I watched him tear up a bit as he
was removing them. The scene had certainly cost him some street-cred in my book.
Anyways, we
were both 19 now and we both had a bunch of tattoos already. So I suppose we
had both continued along our road to rebellion years after the earring
incident. It was so good to see him and reminisce about old times. Almost all
of the rest of my usual group of friends were on hand as well. Back then, we had
a very large circle of friends who would "party it up" almost every single night.
There was about 30-40 of us. The majority of the parties would occur at my
apartment, so this night was really special. Everybody must have been drinking
very heavily that night, because I remember that we kicked the first keg in
like an hour and a half. I quickly noted a direct correlation between the
amount of alcohol consumed and the size of the fire.
For the most
part, everybody was outside. But there was a few stragglers going in and out of
the house from time-to-time. I had been around the fire for the entire time. We were all having a “blast” indeed.
It was about 3
hours into this epic party when I was looking for Justin Smallze. Somebody told me that they had seen him inside the house.
Now, the
bon-fire was in the back yard, about a hundred yards from the house. So, I refilled my beer cup
and began walking towards it. As soon as I got to the door and was about to walk inside the house, absolute chaos erupted.
All of a
sudden I hear a crazy, screaming voice coming from behind me. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhh Danny help me please
I’m fucking dying”!
I turn around and see Larry Zimmer jumping and screaming in an
absolute frenzy. “What dude!? What’s wrong?!” I ask. Just then he does a 180 while still jumping and screaming his head off in pain. I notice that he has almost no skin on his back at all.
“Holy fucking shit man! What the fuck?!”, I yelped. It looked like he must have somehow fallen onto the fire. “Ahhhhhhhhh Please fucking help me Danny, please man” he screams!
My heart
started pounding like a piston; I had absolutely no idea what to do.
“Pleaseeeeeee call my mom”, he hollers out desperately. “What do I do
Danny”?! It was at this moment that I realized that if I didn't do something quick,
he was going to be in real trouble. I don’t remember seeing anybody else from this
moment on, only chaos.
I said; “Ok,
come on”, and we raced into the house. “Lay down on your stomach”, I hollered
at him. He quickly fell to the floor punching and kicking in agony and
screaming; “Please call my mommy and daddy, don’t let me die Danny please!” I
grabbed a blanket off a chair in the living room and put it under cold water. I
didn't know if this was the right thing to do or not, it was simply instinctual. In fact, I still don't know if it was a good idea or not. But anyways, he was flopping, kicking, and screaming in pure agony; “Call my mom please!”
Now you have to understand the level of desperation in his voice, it was bone chilling. I didn't see how she was going to help him, but he kept screaming for me to do it. So I picked up the phone and
dialed the number he told me and handed him the phone. I took the blanket
soaked in cold water and I laid it over his skinless back. His mom must have
answered because he screamed “Mommy, I’m fucking dying I got burned to death
ahhhhhhhhhhhh”! The tone of his voice was simply terror and pain in its rawest
form. And then he hangs up the phone. Can you imagine waking up at 2am to that call from your child?
I obviously
knew that she couldn't save him. That's when I realized that I was the only one who could save him. I picked him up with
the blanket around him and rushed him out to my car. I sped off like we had
just robbed a bank. Unfortunately we were about a 20 minute drive from the
hospital. However, there was no driving laws that existed, all bets were off. If I had crashed on the way there I didn't give a shit. Because, I knew that if I didn't get him to the hospital right away he was definitely going to die. I would estimate that I cut that 20 minute drive to about 6 minutes, driving like a mad man. It was the scariest and most intense 6
minutes of my life.
First of all, I
had been drinking heavily for hours. Secondly, all I heard were
the same desperate shrieks of a man in absolute agony. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh, I don’t wanna
fuckking die Danny please Danny please! Don’t let me die Danny!" He was pleading with me for his life as if I were god. "I just want my
mommy and Daddy pleaseeeeeeee! Please Danny just get me my mommy and daddy!” Street cred was a non factor in this situation
I assure you. The toughest man in the world would have been screaming for his
mommy also. The pain that he was enduring had to be hell on earth. He never stopped screaming so I just drove as fast as I possibly could. Once I
hit Airport rd. I had the gas pedal floored. I was going 90mph.
Once I got into town I drove straight
through red lights and stop signs. I drove the way you would drive in a video
game while being chased by the cops. While I was speeding down North
Arch St. in J.C., I seen a car ahead performing a
K-turn. However, I couldn't slow down in time. So I cut over a drive way and onto the sidewalk. I drove through a couple front yards before going back over the curb and onto the road. All the while
it continued to get worse and worse; “I don’t wanna die! Noooooooooo please
Danny! I just want my mommy and Daddy! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, it fuckking
killsssssssssssssssss pleaseeeeeee. Don't let me die!”.
When we finally swung
into the round-a-bout out front of Wilson Hospitals
It was at this
very moment that I realized my own dilemma. My car was still running right outside the ER and I had been drinking heavily. The melee had stunned me sober, but I'm sure it wouldn't have mattered. The police would definitely be
involved very soon. (In the possible absence of any statute of limitations on a DWI charge,
this had all only occurred on an alleged basis) I needed to get my car the hell out of there. Besides, I realized that my help
was no longer needed.
So I quickly ran back to my
car, and I drove like a civilian to my house only a few blocks away. I seen police cars flying past me, certainly en route to the ER. Then, I
parked my car and ran back over to the hospital. As soon as I got back to the
emergency room entrance, a van came flying in. It was filled with a bunch of my friends
from the party. For some reason, there was a whole bunch of people who had been burned! They all jumped out of the van and went screaming into the same
emergency room, it was pure mayhem. I had assumed that Larry had fallen into the fire somehow, probably horsing around. But considering the fact that all these other burn victims had arrived, I had no idea what the hell could have caused the catastrophe.
The emergency
room was overwhelmed and the staff and security were in a frenzy. We were fighting with them because
they were not helping my friends at all. I think there were 6-7 people who
had large patches of third-degree burns. However, the staff made some of them
wait in the waiting room for almost 30 minutes while their skin was literally burning off. They said
that they were full right now and that they had to wait. I began to tear up a bit watching my friends shake in pain while nothing was being done to help them.
Half of
them were treated and released from the hospital the next day. However, Larry, (Who had been by
far the most critically wounded) and two others were ultimately shipped to a
special burn unit in Syracuse , NY
We later discovered that one of the drunken teenagers had thrown a can of WD-40 into the bon-fire. It had eventually heated up until it burst. Its lava-like contents had exploded and landed directly on the skin of everyone nearby.
Larry had to
have multiple skin graphs and his tattoos were burned off of his body. I remember
going to visit them one time and they had burn wounds bubbled up all over
their bodies. Every few days one of these giant puss filled bubbles on their skin would burst. We had to wear special anti-contamination suits just to be allowed to go into their rooms.
The sight of them alone was very difficult to endure. I cannot begin to imagine the hellish pain they must have endured. Their roads to recovery were all very long and painful. But luckily, they eventually escaped the ordeal with only scars.
Eventually, the injured teenagers all sued the home owners insurance to pay for medical expenses and pain and suffering. However, for some reason, none of them would ever expose exactly how much money they received. It is rumored that Larry had received around $150,000, and that he blew it all, but I cannot confirm this. He has still never thanked me for what I did for him. And when his parents had arrived at the hospital that night, they were so rude to me.
In case anyone has ever wondered, burnt human flesh smells
like toast. The kind you get when you use bread that is too thick for the slot, and so it touches against the heating element as it cooks. Even though it was summer time and I always kept all my windows down, my car smelled like that for 2 months.
Drunken teenagers will always exist, and they will always do stupid things. Luckily, my friends and I were fortunate enough to walk away without being blinded or killed. There are a lot of kids who do not receive a second chance. Teenagers will always throw caution to the wind, I just hope they are not stupid enough to throw WD-40 into a fire.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Blueberry Part 4 of 4
I had left that pub so quickly that I almost left my friend Rob behind. Rob was visiting me from Florida, so I couldn't just abandon him in Fredonia. I promise that I wasn't even buzzed yet, but if Rob didn't come chasing after me I would have totally forgot about him. "Dude, where are you going"? I told him that I'd explain everything once we were on the freeway. My mind was going complete ape shit.
I started recollecting on all of these fond memories of my old pal Blueberry. So many countless nights we spent on the phone together all those years ago. It had been over 8 years since I first chatted with Blueberry, but I still remembered everything so vividly. We used to listen to the radio together when we were bored, our local stations were always playing the same set of new songs on a regular basis. She was a huge fan of the backstreet boys and had a huge crush on Nick Carter. She talked about him all the time back then. She was also a huge fan of the Goo Goo Dolls. "Iris" was a really popular song back then and we both loved it. And I know it might sound corny, but that was "our" song. To this day I can still remember listening to it on the phone with her, over and over.
Anyways, as soon as we hit the freeway I began to give Rob a brief synopsis of Blueberry and our relationship. I didn't go into much detail, I just told him that she text me and said she was out with some friends in Buffalo. He thought I was crazy. Shit, so did I.
A few minutes later I received another text from Blueberry. She said that her and her friends were out drinking at the bar of the Ramada Inn. I had Rob google search for the "Ramada Inn of Buffalo" on his phone in order to get directions. But again, my mind began to drift.
I thought about the time that I had went to her house, and watching "Dirty Dancing". I was just about to tell Rob about the whole story when something insane happened. Now, you wouldn't believe it but at that very moment I heard something very familiar in the air. I turned up my radio, and the song "Iris" was playing. Goosebumps quickly spread all over my body, but with a tingling sensation that is difficult to explain. I cranked that shit up as loud as it could go. I had a brand new car and the factory speakers were surprisingly clear. It was the first time that I had actually flexed them out.
I didn't explain the coincidence to Rob however, he would have definitely called me a "crazy idiot", or made fun of me. I later found out that the Goo Goo Dolls are actually from Buffalo, which was oddly enough where we were headed.
Anyways, about an hour later I received another text; "Where are you"? It was a reasonable question, after all, I'm sure she assumed I was in Buffalo to begin with. I didn't tell her that I was out of town and racing back just to see her. I didn't want to seem like a crazy idiot, even though I might have been one. Rob said that we should be there in 10 minutes according to his directions. And so I text her back; "Be there in 10".
When we arrived at the Ramada I was still in control of my emotions and super excited! But when we walked in, I didn't see any bar. I asked the woman at the counter and she said that they didn't have a bar. After some more questioning, we learned that it was the Ramada on the complete other side of the city that had a bar. I was really flustered at this point. Here I was, all ready for the moment of truth, and it was all for not. Well, not yet anyways. We got directions to the other Ramada and set back out on our journey.
Blueberry kept texting me; "I thought you were coming :(". I told her that we had gotten lost but that we would be there shortly. I didn't get any reply back.
When we finally arrived at the correct Ramada, it had been almost 2 and a half hrs since I received her initial text when I was in Fredonia. We quickly got out of the car and headed towards the main entrance. On our way in we seen a group of girls walking through the parking lot. One of them looked like Blueberry! "Hey", I exclaimed. The one who looked like Blueberry made a rude gesture back towards me and they kept walking. "That couldn't have been her", I said to Rob. "She would never have done that".
We walked into the bar and it looked almost completely empty. I pulled out my phone and text the word "here". We did a quick lap around the bar just to make sure and then hustled back outside. The girls we had seen were gone too. I was fucking heartbroken. Here we were, making this epic trek in the wee hours and it had all went awry!
Just as we were heading back towards my car, an SUV pulled up aside us. And there, in the front passenger seat with the window rolled down, sat Blueberry. "Hey", she said. I took a deep breath and swallowed, "Hi".
Suddenly the door swung open, she hopped out, ran and jumped into my arms. It was the greatest moment of my life. I promise you, that in that moment, I was invincible. It felt like I could have flown straight up into the sky like superman holding Lois Lane. If I live to be 1,000 years old, nothing could ever compare to that moment in time.
Anyways, after that she explained that they had driven from Syracuse earlier and been out for a while already. They were leaving and going to sleep at a friends house. But, she said that they were going out to a club tomorrow night and for us to meet them there. We agreed and said our good-byes.
When I got back into the car with Rob, I remember him being pissed off. "We just drove all over the place for fucking nothing?" Its funny how something can seem like nothing to one person, but mean everything to somebody else.
The next day, Blueberry was texting me off the hook. She was making sure that we were going to meet up later at the club. I assured her that we would be there with bells on.
When we arrived at the club that night, the very first person I seen was Blueberry. She was with a friend outside of the club chatting with a bouncer. We went into the club and had some drinks. It was so loud and crowded in there that it took 15 minutes to order a drink, so we got a few. Rob and I separated from them for a bit and scoped out the club. Again, a lot of the time I spent with her that night is a blur. Plus, I was not trying to smother her, even with the drinks were flowing. It was very surreal to be with her. All I wanted was to get a chance to talk to her alone, if even for a minute. The music was so loud that all communication equated to shouting in her ear. At one point, she took me by the hand to go and find her friend. It was like touching an angel. I didn't want her to ever let go.
We had a really fun time that night, drinking and just bullshitting. About 3 hours later when her and her friends got ready to go, I was really sad. When we said our "Goodbyes", it felt like I would never see her again.
I never seen her again.
Our conversations increased for a while after that night, but then we again faded away into the abyss which is our lives. Her dad got diagnosed with ALS a few years later, and eventually passed away. I know how close she was with him. It really hurt me deeply when she told me about it. I really wish I could have been there for her. I wanted to so bad. But, she had a boyfriend. Girls like Blueberry always have a boyfriend. The prime cuts of beef never stay on the shelves for too long. She got married a few years ago.
We still chat here and there. Sometimes she seems really happy, but most of the time she seems sad. She says that whenever I contact her out of the blue, it is somehow always when she is having a bad day and needs a good friend to chat with. She says that I must have some magical ability to sense when she is struggling. But honestly, I don't believe any of that. I think she might be a bit of a drama queen, but a queen nonetheless.
I have always been very discreet with discussing my relationship with Blueberry. In fact, only a couple of my close friends even know she exists. It took me quite a while to realize why I never wanted to tell my friends about her. For a long time I thought it was because I was ashamed of the method in which we met. But eventually, I realized that the reason I never really told anybody about her was because it always makes me sad. I'm not sad because she got married, I'm sad that she never
got to know the real me.
My reason for telling this story is the same reason I have for telling all of my stories. For one, my friends have always been really intrigued by my stories, and especially my meticulous recollection of details. But my main purpose, is that I am hoping this outlet will provide a sense of comfort.
People often carry their pasts around with them like luggage. We often allow it to influence our present and our future. I will not allow it to. I am hoping that my 'release' of my stories will allow me to finally put it all behind me. It took me such a long time to realize the truth. It has never been Blueberry whom I have been in love with, it was always the fantasy of her. And I spent a large chunk of my life feeling like I wasn't good enough for the girl of my dreams, when in fact, she never even was.
The girl of my dreams is one who truly believes that I am the best thing going. And anybody who settles for anything less than that, is an absolute fool.
Sometimes it seems like she is a ghost who is still alive, or just some imaginary character created by the rampant mind of a very imaginative kid. After all, I have only actually been with her twice. And yet, for some reason it seems like that is impossible.
So as I close this chapter in my life, I do so in both the literal and the figurative sense. I once read that blueberries are supposed to be very healthy for your brain. But all they have ever done for mine is drive it crazy.
I started recollecting on all of these fond memories of my old pal Blueberry. So many countless nights we spent on the phone together all those years ago. It had been over 8 years since I first chatted with Blueberry, but I still remembered everything so vividly. We used to listen to the radio together when we were bored, our local stations were always playing the same set of new songs on a regular basis. She was a huge fan of the backstreet boys and had a huge crush on Nick Carter. She talked about him all the time back then. She was also a huge fan of the Goo Goo Dolls. "Iris" was a really popular song back then and we both loved it. And I know it might sound corny, but that was "our" song. To this day I can still remember listening to it on the phone with her, over and over.
Anyways, as soon as we hit the freeway I began to give Rob a brief synopsis of Blueberry and our relationship. I didn't go into much detail, I just told him that she text me and said she was out with some friends in Buffalo. He thought I was crazy. Shit, so did I.
A few minutes later I received another text from Blueberry. She said that her and her friends were out drinking at the bar of the Ramada Inn. I had Rob google search for the "Ramada Inn of Buffalo" on his phone in order to get directions. But again, my mind began to drift.
I thought about the time that I had went to her house, and watching "Dirty Dancing". I was just about to tell Rob about the whole story when something insane happened. Now, you wouldn't believe it but at that very moment I heard something very familiar in the air. I turned up my radio, and the song "Iris" was playing. Goosebumps quickly spread all over my body, but with a tingling sensation that is difficult to explain. I cranked that shit up as loud as it could go. I had a brand new car and the factory speakers were surprisingly clear. It was the first time that I had actually flexed them out.
I didn't explain the coincidence to Rob however, he would have definitely called me a "crazy idiot", or made fun of me. I later found out that the Goo Goo Dolls are actually from Buffalo, which was oddly enough where we were headed.
Anyways, about an hour later I received another text; "Where are you"? It was a reasonable question, after all, I'm sure she assumed I was in Buffalo to begin with. I didn't tell her that I was out of town and racing back just to see her. I didn't want to seem like a crazy idiot, even though I might have been one. Rob said that we should be there in 10 minutes according to his directions. And so I text her back; "Be there in 10".
When we arrived at the Ramada I was still in control of my emotions and super excited! But when we walked in, I didn't see any bar. I asked the woman at the counter and she said that they didn't have a bar. After some more questioning, we learned that it was the Ramada on the complete other side of the city that had a bar. I was really flustered at this point. Here I was, all ready for the moment of truth, and it was all for not. Well, not yet anyways. We got directions to the other Ramada and set back out on our journey.
Blueberry kept texting me; "I thought you were coming :(". I told her that we had gotten lost but that we would be there shortly. I didn't get any reply back.
When we finally arrived at the correct Ramada, it had been almost 2 and a half hrs since I received her initial text when I was in Fredonia. We quickly got out of the car and headed towards the main entrance. On our way in we seen a group of girls walking through the parking lot. One of them looked like Blueberry! "Hey", I exclaimed. The one who looked like Blueberry made a rude gesture back towards me and they kept walking. "That couldn't have been her", I said to Rob. "She would never have done that".
We walked into the bar and it looked almost completely empty. I pulled out my phone and text the word "here". We did a quick lap around the bar just to make sure and then hustled back outside. The girls we had seen were gone too. I was fucking heartbroken. Here we were, making this epic trek in the wee hours and it had all went awry!
Just as we were heading back towards my car, an SUV pulled up aside us. And there, in the front passenger seat with the window rolled down, sat Blueberry. "Hey", she said. I took a deep breath and swallowed, "Hi".
Suddenly the door swung open, she hopped out, ran and jumped into my arms. It was the greatest moment of my life. I promise you, that in that moment, I was invincible. It felt like I could have flown straight up into the sky like superman holding Lois Lane. If I live to be 1,000 years old, nothing could ever compare to that moment in time.
Anyways, after that she explained that they had driven from Syracuse earlier and been out for a while already. They were leaving and going to sleep at a friends house. But, she said that they were going out to a club tomorrow night and for us to meet them there. We agreed and said our good-byes.
When I got back into the car with Rob, I remember him being pissed off. "We just drove all over the place for fucking nothing?" Its funny how something can seem like nothing to one person, but mean everything to somebody else.
The next day, Blueberry was texting me off the hook. She was making sure that we were going to meet up later at the club. I assured her that we would be there with bells on.
When we arrived at the club that night, the very first person I seen was Blueberry. She was with a friend outside of the club chatting with a bouncer. We went into the club and had some drinks. It was so loud and crowded in there that it took 15 minutes to order a drink, so we got a few. Rob and I separated from them for a bit and scoped out the club. Again, a lot of the time I spent with her that night is a blur. Plus, I was not trying to smother her, even with the drinks were flowing. It was very surreal to be with her. All I wanted was to get a chance to talk to her alone, if even for a minute. The music was so loud that all communication equated to shouting in her ear. At one point, she took me by the hand to go and find her friend. It was like touching an angel. I didn't want her to ever let go.
We had a really fun time that night, drinking and just bullshitting. About 3 hours later when her and her friends got ready to go, I was really sad. When we said our "Goodbyes", it felt like I would never see her again.
I never seen her again.
Our conversations increased for a while after that night, but then we again faded away into the abyss which is our lives. Her dad got diagnosed with ALS a few years later, and eventually passed away. I know how close she was with him. It really hurt me deeply when she told me about it. I really wish I could have been there for her. I wanted to so bad. But, she had a boyfriend. Girls like Blueberry always have a boyfriend. The prime cuts of beef never stay on the shelves for too long. She got married a few years ago.
We still chat here and there. Sometimes she seems really happy, but most of the time she seems sad. She says that whenever I contact her out of the blue, it is somehow always when she is having a bad day and needs a good friend to chat with. She says that I must have some magical ability to sense when she is struggling. But honestly, I don't believe any of that. I think she might be a bit of a drama queen, but a queen nonetheless.
I have always been very discreet with discussing my relationship with Blueberry. In fact, only a couple of my close friends even know she exists. It took me quite a while to realize why I never wanted to tell my friends about her. For a long time I thought it was because I was ashamed of the method in which we met. But eventually, I realized that the reason I never really told anybody about her was because it always makes me sad. I'm not sad because she got married, I'm sad that she never
got to know the real me.
My reason for telling this story is the same reason I have for telling all of my stories. For one, my friends have always been really intrigued by my stories, and especially my meticulous recollection of details. But my main purpose, is that I am hoping this outlet will provide a sense of comfort.
People often carry their pasts around with them like luggage. We often allow it to influence our present and our future. I will not allow it to. I am hoping that my 'release' of my stories will allow me to finally put it all behind me. It took me such a long time to realize the truth. It has never been Blueberry whom I have been in love with, it was always the fantasy of her. And I spent a large chunk of my life feeling like I wasn't good enough for the girl of my dreams, when in fact, she never even was.
The girl of my dreams is one who truly believes that I am the best thing going. And anybody who settles for anything less than that, is an absolute fool.
Sometimes it seems like she is a ghost who is still alive, or just some imaginary character created by the rampant mind of a very imaginative kid. After all, I have only actually been with her twice. And yet, for some reason it seems like that is impossible.
So as I close this chapter in my life, I do so in both the literal and the figurative sense. I once read that blueberries are supposed to be very healthy for your brain. But all they have ever done for mine is drive it crazy.
Stan the Man
It was the summer of 2001 when I had become addicted to the radio station Star 105.7. Every weekday, from 6am-7pm, that radio went everywhere with me. It wasn't because I enjoyed listening to the same 10 songs they played all day long, nor was it because I enjoyed the hours and hours of advertisements. It was because of an ongoing contest that they had been running for over a month.
The contest entailed a grand prize of $2000 and another $3000 in gift certificates. The rules of the contest were simple. "Every weekday between 6am and 7pm, listen for your cue to call in. All you have to do, is be the 7th caller, and identify the 6 celebrity voices".
You see, they had made up an audio file that contained 6 celebrity voices. Each voice would say a phrase and then go onto the next voice, and so forth. I had heard these audio clips a hundred times over the past month. Each time that they gave the "cue to call", the 7th caller would take a shot at identifying all 6 voices to win the grand prize. Then, the disc jockey would tell the caller how many, if any, they had answered correctly. However, they never revealed which answers were correct or incorrect, only the amount that they guessed correctly. This fact made the challenge far more difficult, which is why the contest went on for so long. I think they gave the "cue to call" about 3-4 times a day. Then, the contestant who was the 7th caller, they would take their stab at the $5000 in total prizes.
Truthfully, I couldn't identify even one single voice. However, I wrote down everybody's guesses and how many they had gotten right. After a few weeks of meticulously doing so, I had eventually narrowed down the correct sequence through the process of elimination. Therefore, every time that they play the "cue to call", my heart would race. I would dial the radio station and get a busy signal, hit reset and redial. Over and over this went on for weeks. I think one time it rang and I was 3rd caller, but that was as close as I had come.
Regardless, I continued my relentless pursuit. It had gotten to the point where I was at home all day with the cordless phone in hand and the radio at full volume. It had gotten to the point that every contestant was getting 5 out of 6 correct, and I always knew what error they had made and I was very relieved.
Anyways, it was a Friday evening and there was going to be only 1 more "cue to call" for the week. It was about 5pm or so, therefore it could happen anytime within the next 2 hours. My brother Dave showed up at the house, he was living away at college, but he had come home for the weekend. He wanted to go out for dinner, but I explained him the situation and so we waited.
Around 6:15 they played the "cue to call" and I was rapidly taping away at the phone. My brother was sitting on the love seat looking at me with a silly grin. Suddenly, the unthinkable happened...I heard a ringing noise. "Oh my god dude, its ringing", I exclaimed!
"Yea right", he said.
My heart was pounding out of my chest. Finally the phone was answered.
Jockey: "Hey, who's this?!"
Me: "Dan", I said it quickly trying to catch my breath.
Jockey: "Stan the man! Well Stan guess what?! You're caller number 7! Where are you calling from tonight Stan?"
Me: "Johnson City. Its Dan", I panicky remarked.
Jockey: "Oh I'm sorry, Dannnnnn the man!" he responded sarcastically. "You are caller number 7 Dan! That means that you have the chance to win over $5000 in cash and prizes. Including....." (He went on and on about the prizes, giving the businesses their usual on-air exposure)
I just wanted him to shut up so I could read off my list. I was so flustered and fidgety.
Jockey: "Have you been listening Dan? And do you think you have all 6 celebrity voices!?"
Me: "Yessir! I'm positive"
Jockey: "Ok Dan, whenever you're ready!"
I picked up my list and read off the names as fast as I could. I cant remember who they were, I remember one was Lucy Ball and another was Dorothy Hamill, but that's it. As soon as I finished reading the names I grabbed my hair with my other hand. I had done it!
Jockey: "Dan the man", his voice had gotten calm
Me: "Yeah"
Jockey: "Are you sitting down", he said.
Me: "Yeah", I said, while jumping in the air. My brother was looking at me in disbelief.
Jockey: "YOU GOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 5 right. I'm sorry but you needed to get all 6"
Me: "Ughhh" I felt all the life slip out of my body. I expected him to say he was just kidding.
Jockey: "Poor guy. I could hear the pain in his voice"
I was fucking shocked, there was no possible way my calculations were incorrect! I had went over them and over them. I had pages and pages of wrong guesses, and how many were correct. There was just NO possible way that I didn't have them all right!
They put me on hold and asked for my full name so I could get some consolation prize of donuts and coffee bullshit. But I just hung up the phone.
My brother started laughing hysterically, he thought it was the funniest shit in the world. Then, he grabbed a cassette tape and put it in the radio and pressed record. A few minutes later they played my segment on air.
He kept that tape in his car for 4 goddamn years. And every time I would get in his car he would play it and laugh. Naturally, I also gained the nickname; "Stan the Man". What a dick.
The contest entailed a grand prize of $2000 and another $3000 in gift certificates. The rules of the contest were simple. "Every weekday between 6am and 7pm, listen for your cue to call in. All you have to do, is be the 7th caller, and identify the 6 celebrity voices".
You see, they had made up an audio file that contained 6 celebrity voices. Each voice would say a phrase and then go onto the next voice, and so forth. I had heard these audio clips a hundred times over the past month. Each time that they gave the "cue to call", the 7th caller would take a shot at identifying all 6 voices to win the grand prize. Then, the disc jockey would tell the caller how many, if any, they had answered correctly. However, they never revealed which answers were correct or incorrect, only the amount that they guessed correctly. This fact made the challenge far more difficult, which is why the contest went on for so long. I think they gave the "cue to call" about 3-4 times a day. Then, the contestant who was the 7th caller, they would take their stab at the $5000 in total prizes.
Truthfully, I couldn't identify even one single voice. However, I wrote down everybody's guesses and how many they had gotten right. After a few weeks of meticulously doing so, I had eventually narrowed down the correct sequence through the process of elimination. Therefore, every time that they play the "cue to call", my heart would race. I would dial the radio station and get a busy signal, hit reset and redial. Over and over this went on for weeks. I think one time it rang and I was 3rd caller, but that was as close as I had come.
Regardless, I continued my relentless pursuit. It had gotten to the point where I was at home all day with the cordless phone in hand and the radio at full volume. It had gotten to the point that every contestant was getting 5 out of 6 correct, and I always knew what error they had made and I was very relieved.
Anyways, it was a Friday evening and there was going to be only 1 more "cue to call" for the week. It was about 5pm or so, therefore it could happen anytime within the next 2 hours. My brother Dave showed up at the house, he was living away at college, but he had come home for the weekend. He wanted to go out for dinner, but I explained him the situation and so we waited.
Around 6:15 they played the "cue to call" and I was rapidly taping away at the phone. My brother was sitting on the love seat looking at me with a silly grin. Suddenly, the unthinkable happened...I heard a ringing noise. "Oh my god dude, its ringing", I exclaimed!
"Yea right", he said.
My heart was pounding out of my chest. Finally the phone was answered.
Jockey: "Hey, who's this?!"
Me: "Dan", I said it quickly trying to catch my breath.
Jockey: "Stan the man! Well Stan guess what?! You're caller number 7! Where are you calling from tonight Stan?"
Me: "Johnson City. Its Dan", I panicky remarked.
Jockey: "Oh I'm sorry, Dannnnnn the man!" he responded sarcastically. "You are caller number 7 Dan! That means that you have the chance to win over $5000 in cash and prizes. Including....." (He went on and on about the prizes, giving the businesses their usual on-air exposure)
I just wanted him to shut up so I could read off my list. I was so flustered and fidgety.
Jockey: "Have you been listening Dan? And do you think you have all 6 celebrity voices!?"
Me: "Yessir! I'm positive"
Jockey: "Ok Dan, whenever you're ready!"
I picked up my list and read off the names as fast as I could. I cant remember who they were, I remember one was Lucy Ball and another was Dorothy Hamill, but that's it. As soon as I finished reading the names I grabbed my hair with my other hand. I had done it!
Jockey: "Dan the man", his voice had gotten calm
Me: "Yeah"
Jockey: "Are you sitting down", he said.
Me: "Yeah", I said, while jumping in the air. My brother was looking at me in disbelief.
Jockey: "YOU GOTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT 5 right. I'm sorry but you needed to get all 6"
Me: "Ughhh" I felt all the life slip out of my body. I expected him to say he was just kidding.
Jockey: "Poor guy. I could hear the pain in his voice"
I was fucking shocked, there was no possible way my calculations were incorrect! I had went over them and over them. I had pages and pages of wrong guesses, and how many were correct. There was just NO possible way that I didn't have them all right!
They put me on hold and asked for my full name so I could get some consolation prize of donuts and coffee bullshit. But I just hung up the phone.
My brother started laughing hysterically, he thought it was the funniest shit in the world. Then, he grabbed a cassette tape and put it in the radio and pressed record. A few minutes later they played my segment on air.
He kept that tape in his car for 4 goddamn years. And every time I would get in his car he would play it and laugh. Naturally, I also gained the nickname; "Stan the Man". What a dick.
Sunday, February 9, 2014
Blueberry Part 3 of 4
While we were first entering her house, my eyes met hers for a spilt second, it was really awkward. She also seemed really nervous. Needless to say, it was not the joyous reception that my heart had envisioned.
Anyways, we introduced ourselves and luckily, she had a friend with her also. I think it would have been way more awkward if it were just me, her, and Dom.
Anyways, we all went into her bedroom and she closed the door. It made me feel a little more relaxed that I didn't have to meet the whole family. Her dad poked his head in and said; "Hello" once or twice, but that was about it.
For the next few hours we just bullshitted like teenagers do. However, I could tell that something was off. The whole situation was obviously extremely awkward, finally meeting somebody whom you have been talking to so often for 3 years.
Also, her appearance was even more angelic than it was in her photos. The way her dark eye brows shadowed her caramel colored eyes, it was so intimidating.
Looking into her eyes was like looking into the eyes of Medusa. It made me feel stone-like and inferior, so I was trying to avoid eye contact. I felt like a bashful kindergartner and those eyes just shrank me into a shell. I felt like she was disappointed by my appearance and it crushed me inside. I tried my hardest to play it off, but I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
The next few hours are a bit of a blur. I remember that the tension had eventually cooled off a bit and we had some funny conversations. At one point, we watched "Dirty Dancing" all the way through. But for being a person with such a stellar memory and in such a critical position, I recall little else about our visit.
I was so relieved when we left. My mind was spinning a million miles an hour. I couldn't wait to get home and talk to the real Blueberry again. I wanted to find out what she really thought of me, even though I feared the worst.
The drive home would prove to be even crazier than the rest of the day. The highway on 81S was covered in snow and it just kept getting worse and worse. It got to the point where I couldn't see anything more than 5 feet in front of me. I was only 17, so I was a very inexperienced driver anyways, especially in such conditions.
Perhaps it was a culmination of the day which had me flustered, but the weather had me very tense. There were wrecked vehicles every few miles. It also didn't help that my car was ill equipped for this type of weather. As the weather got worse and worse, Dom and I began to really worry. We seen a sign that said "Icy Pavement zone", and we both let out a sarcastic; "great". Moments later, I lost complete control of the car.
I was already very tense and gripping the steering wheel very tightly. So as soon as I began to slide, I did the worst thing I could possibly do, I slammed on the brakes. We immediately did a 180 and were sliding backwards in a straight line at 40 mph. It seemed like we were sliding forever. The whole time we were just holding on and awaiting an impact. But it never came. I have no idea how we didn't slide off the road, it almost defied the laws of physics. We just continued to slide perfectly backwards for at least 300-400 yards. Then, Just as he were about to come to a complete stop, Dom said; "Holy shit man, I think were good."
However, the moment before we finally came to a complete stop, we slid off the road and into a ditch.
I opened the door and the falling snow covered me quickly. It was before the time of cell phones, so we had no idea what to do. As we stepped out of the car, we saw flashing lights about 200 yards ahead. So, without any other options, we got out of the car and ran towards them. I was very worried for Dom because he breaks out into hives when his skin gets really cold. I suggested that he wait in the car, but he wasn't having any of that.
When we got to the flashing lights we were relieved to find that it was a cop who was just sitting there with his lights on. He was using his flashers as assistance for a toe truck that was pulling a semi out of a ditch. We got into the cops car and out of the elements. It felt amazing to be back in the warmth, but we knew that we were still in a bad situation. We explained our predicament to the officer and he asked for my ID. He quickly noticed that I was under 18 and it was past 9pm. He issued me a ticket for driving past 9pm with only a junior license. I told him that we would have been home long ago if it weren't for the weather, but he didn't care. He also told us that we would have to have our parents come pick us up since I was driving illegally, therefore we were his responsibility.
Suddenly, a car slid off the road and into the driver side of the police car we were in. Then, the car that had hit us took off. The cop immediately ordered us out of his car. The cop tried to pursue the hit and run car but his vehicle was immobilized. Apparently, cop cars have some sort of built in mechanism that prevents their cars from moving following a wreck.
The toe truck driver and the cop were frantically trying to pull the back bumper of the cop car free so he could pursue the driver. The snow was continuing to fall and it was difficult to see. They were having trouble and asked or our help. The 4 of us kept pulling the bumper and sliding, it was no use.
The cop ordered us back into the car and called for back-up. He was on his radio explaining the hit-and-run. He was giving a description of the car that had hit us, our location, and the direction in which they were traveling.
Anyways, we sat in the backseat for another 20 minutes or so until back-up arrived. The back-up was apparently 'superior officers', and they immediately ordered us into their car. These cops were way more chill than the other guy was. Then asked us a series of questions about how the first officer responded to the incident.
Next, we explained them our predicament and they called us a tow truck. He also tore up the ticket that the previous cop had issued and told me he would have it dropped. Finally, they brought us back to my car with the toe truck driver and allowed us to drive home.
On any other day of my life this would have been a traumatic experience, but all I was thinking about during the whole ordeal was Blueberry.
The next day I called Blueberry and told her all about our crazy adventure on the way home. But it was easy to tell that something was wrong. I don't know if she thought I was ugly, weird, or what it was for sure. However, from that day forward, our relationship changed drastically. We began to chat less and less.
Before I knew it she was dating somebody, and then somebody else. I was also dating somebody, and then somebody else, so we eventually began to grow apart. Our calls became less and less frequent. And when we did chat, it was brief and just never the same. I never called the party line again.
A short time later, AOL became very popular and we would chat on there sometimes. But things were never the same. We always had a boyfriend/girlfriend and we just grew further and further apart. I would be lying if I said that it didn't break my heart. As I got older, I realized that close friends fade away often. Its strange how it happens to people. However, I could never shake the feelings I had for her. She is the only friend I have ever had that ever really understood me.
Sometimes I would miss her and send her an email on AOL, reminiscing about our conversations. Usually I would get a short, generic response back, or sometimes none at all. I realized that I had fallen on her list of priorities, and I accepted it. I moved on, and for the next 6 years, we probably chatted 3-4 times total. I wish that I could tell you that was the end of the story, I really do!
But the heart wants what the heart wants.
I graduated from college in 2005 and moved to Buffalo with a friend of mine. By this time, Blueberry and I were simply old friends. We would text back and forth every now and then to see how the other was doing, but that was it. I understood where our relationship stood and I had to just accept it and move on. And so I did.
By this time I had really matured and became an adult. I became career oriented and was really beginning to understand what I wanted out of life. I would set goals for myself and make sure to achieve them, no matter what. I had assumed this; "I can do all things" type of identity. My professional like was striving also. I was working as a Financial Advisor for Key Bank. All of the people who I worked with were terrific. They were all very polite, funny, and just a pure joy to be around. I have worked for a ton of employers, and every one of them had a number of pure assholes. I have no idea how Key Bank went about their recruitment process, but they really had their act together. I loved going into work and I was making a ton of money. If I could go back in time, I would never have left that job in a years, but that is another story entirely. Anyways, it is still the only brief time in my life that I can say that I was ever truly content with myself. I really felt like it was time for me to find a nice girl to settle down with. This was not going to be difficult to find. Buffalo was filled with beautiful, intelligent women. And for some reason, it seemed like they were flocking to me left and right. I had dated (And I don't mean had sex with) a bunch of beautiful women who had everything going for them, and it seemed like they would instantly fall for me. However, I would eventually lose interest and stop returning their calls/texts. I could never figure out why until I got much older and more mature, but I will get to that.
Anyways, this one Friday evening in February of 2006, I was in Fredonia for the night partying with some old college friends. Fredonia is about an hour drive from where I lived in Buffalo. I hadn't seen my friends since I graduated, so I decided to drive out for the night. I met them at our familiar pub and we embraced a bit and ordered some drinks.
Suddenly, I got an unexpected text from Blueberry; "Hey, I'm in Buffalo for my birthday weekend. What are you doing"?
This text made my stomach drop. We hadn't chatted at all for quite a while, so it reallly caught me off guard. It felt like I was having a moment of reckoning, my mind began to race at an alarming rate. I could easily have just ignored the text and continued to hang out with my friends. After all, we were having a great time. Or, I could have simply texted her back something like; "Sorry, I'm out of town. Maybe next time"? It would have been a completely reasonable thing to do. However, I have never really been all that reasonable.
I immediately stood up and said; "I gotta go guys". They looked dumbfounded by the remark, and rightly so. I went over to the bar and bought my friends a few more pictures of beer and set them at our table. "Why do you gotta go", one of them asked. I simply responded; "I gotta go see about a girl". (Thanks Robin Williams) I opened my phone back up and typed; "Where are you at? I'm on my way"! And with that, I was out of that pub and jogging towards my car.
Anyways, we introduced ourselves and luckily, she had a friend with her also. I think it would have been way more awkward if it were just me, her, and Dom.
Anyways, we all went into her bedroom and she closed the door. It made me feel a little more relaxed that I didn't have to meet the whole family. Her dad poked his head in and said; "Hello" once or twice, but that was about it.
For the next few hours we just bullshitted like teenagers do. However, I could tell that something was off. The whole situation was obviously extremely awkward, finally meeting somebody whom you have been talking to so often for 3 years.
Also, her appearance was even more angelic than it was in her photos. The way her dark eye brows shadowed her caramel colored eyes, it was so intimidating.
Looking into her eyes was like looking into the eyes of Medusa. It made me feel stone-like and inferior, so I was trying to avoid eye contact. I felt like a bashful kindergartner and those eyes just shrank me into a shell. I felt like she was disappointed by my appearance and it crushed me inside. I tried my hardest to play it off, but I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
The next few hours are a bit of a blur. I remember that the tension had eventually cooled off a bit and we had some funny conversations. At one point, we watched "Dirty Dancing" all the way through. But for being a person with such a stellar memory and in such a critical position, I recall little else about our visit.
I was so relieved when we left. My mind was spinning a million miles an hour. I couldn't wait to get home and talk to the real Blueberry again. I wanted to find out what she really thought of me, even though I feared the worst.
The drive home would prove to be even crazier than the rest of the day. The highway on 81S was covered in snow and it just kept getting worse and worse. It got to the point where I couldn't see anything more than 5 feet in front of me. I was only 17, so I was a very inexperienced driver anyways, especially in such conditions.
Perhaps it was a culmination of the day which had me flustered, but the weather had me very tense. There were wrecked vehicles every few miles. It also didn't help that my car was ill equipped for this type of weather. As the weather got worse and worse, Dom and I began to really worry. We seen a sign that said "Icy Pavement zone", and we both let out a sarcastic; "great". Moments later, I lost complete control of the car.
I was already very tense and gripping the steering wheel very tightly. So as soon as I began to slide, I did the worst thing I could possibly do, I slammed on the brakes. We immediately did a 180 and were sliding backwards in a straight line at 40 mph. It seemed like we were sliding forever. The whole time we were just holding on and awaiting an impact. But it never came. I have no idea how we didn't slide off the road, it almost defied the laws of physics. We just continued to slide perfectly backwards for at least 300-400 yards. Then, Just as he were about to come to a complete stop, Dom said; "Holy shit man, I think were good."
However, the moment before we finally came to a complete stop, we slid off the road and into a ditch.
I opened the door and the falling snow covered me quickly. It was before the time of cell phones, so we had no idea what to do. As we stepped out of the car, we saw flashing lights about 200 yards ahead. So, without any other options, we got out of the car and ran towards them. I was very worried for Dom because he breaks out into hives when his skin gets really cold. I suggested that he wait in the car, but he wasn't having any of that.
When we got to the flashing lights we were relieved to find that it was a cop who was just sitting there with his lights on. He was using his flashers as assistance for a toe truck that was pulling a semi out of a ditch. We got into the cops car and out of the elements. It felt amazing to be back in the warmth, but we knew that we were still in a bad situation. We explained our predicament to the officer and he asked for my ID. He quickly noticed that I was under 18 and it was past 9pm. He issued me a ticket for driving past 9pm with only a junior license. I told him that we would have been home long ago if it weren't for the weather, but he didn't care. He also told us that we would have to have our parents come pick us up since I was driving illegally, therefore we were his responsibility.
Suddenly, a car slid off the road and into the driver side of the police car we were in. Then, the car that had hit us took off. The cop immediately ordered us out of his car. The cop tried to pursue the hit and run car but his vehicle was immobilized. Apparently, cop cars have some sort of built in mechanism that prevents their cars from moving following a wreck.
The toe truck driver and the cop were frantically trying to pull the back bumper of the cop car free so he could pursue the driver. The snow was continuing to fall and it was difficult to see. They were having trouble and asked or our help. The 4 of us kept pulling the bumper and sliding, it was no use.
The cop ordered us back into the car and called for back-up. He was on his radio explaining the hit-and-run. He was giving a description of the car that had hit us, our location, and the direction in which they were traveling.
Anyways, we sat in the backseat for another 20 minutes or so until back-up arrived. The back-up was apparently 'superior officers', and they immediately ordered us into their car. These cops were way more chill than the other guy was. Then asked us a series of questions about how the first officer responded to the incident.
Next, we explained them our predicament and they called us a tow truck. He also tore up the ticket that the previous cop had issued and told me he would have it dropped. Finally, they brought us back to my car with the toe truck driver and allowed us to drive home.
On any other day of my life this would have been a traumatic experience, but all I was thinking about during the whole ordeal was Blueberry.
The next day I called Blueberry and told her all about our crazy adventure on the way home. But it was easy to tell that something was wrong. I don't know if she thought I was ugly, weird, or what it was for sure. However, from that day forward, our relationship changed drastically. We began to chat less and less.
Before I knew it she was dating somebody, and then somebody else. I was also dating somebody, and then somebody else, so we eventually began to grow apart. Our calls became less and less frequent. And when we did chat, it was brief and just never the same. I never called the party line again.
A short time later, AOL became very popular and we would chat on there sometimes. But things were never the same. We always had a boyfriend/girlfriend and we just grew further and further apart. I would be lying if I said that it didn't break my heart. As I got older, I realized that close friends fade away often. Its strange how it happens to people. However, I could never shake the feelings I had for her. She is the only friend I have ever had that ever really understood me.
Sometimes I would miss her and send her an email on AOL, reminiscing about our conversations. Usually I would get a short, generic response back, or sometimes none at all. I realized that I had fallen on her list of priorities, and I accepted it. I moved on, and for the next 6 years, we probably chatted 3-4 times total. I wish that I could tell you that was the end of the story, I really do!
But the heart wants what the heart wants.
I graduated from college in 2005 and moved to Buffalo with a friend of mine. By this time, Blueberry and I were simply old friends. We would text back and forth every now and then to see how the other was doing, but that was it. I understood where our relationship stood and I had to just accept it and move on. And so I did.
By this time I had really matured and became an adult. I became career oriented and was really beginning to understand what I wanted out of life. I would set goals for myself and make sure to achieve them, no matter what. I had assumed this; "I can do all things" type of identity. My professional like was striving also. I was working as a Financial Advisor for Key Bank. All of the people who I worked with were terrific. They were all very polite, funny, and just a pure joy to be around. I have worked for a ton of employers, and every one of them had a number of pure assholes. I have no idea how Key Bank went about their recruitment process, but they really had their act together. I loved going into work and I was making a ton of money. If I could go back in time, I would never have left that job in a years, but that is another story entirely. Anyways, it is still the only brief time in my life that I can say that I was ever truly content with myself. I really felt like it was time for me to find a nice girl to settle down with. This was not going to be difficult to find. Buffalo was filled with beautiful, intelligent women. And for some reason, it seemed like they were flocking to me left and right. I had dated (And I don't mean had sex with) a bunch of beautiful women who had everything going for them, and it seemed like they would instantly fall for me. However, I would eventually lose interest and stop returning their calls/texts. I could never figure out why until I got much older and more mature, but I will get to that.
Anyways, this one Friday evening in February of 2006, I was in Fredonia for the night partying with some old college friends. Fredonia is about an hour drive from where I lived in Buffalo. I hadn't seen my friends since I graduated, so I decided to drive out for the night. I met them at our familiar pub and we embraced a bit and ordered some drinks.
Suddenly, I got an unexpected text from Blueberry; "Hey, I'm in Buffalo for my birthday weekend. What are you doing"?
This text made my stomach drop. We hadn't chatted at all for quite a while, so it reallly caught me off guard. It felt like I was having a moment of reckoning, my mind began to race at an alarming rate. I could easily have just ignored the text and continued to hang out with my friends. After all, we were having a great time. Or, I could have simply texted her back something like; "Sorry, I'm out of town. Maybe next time"? It would have been a completely reasonable thing to do. However, I have never really been all that reasonable.
I immediately stood up and said; "I gotta go guys". They looked dumbfounded by the remark, and rightly so. I went over to the bar and bought my friends a few more pictures of beer and set them at our table. "Why do you gotta go", one of them asked. I simply responded; "I gotta go see about a girl". (Thanks Robin Williams) I opened my phone back up and typed; "Where are you at? I'm on my way"! And with that, I was out of that pub and jogging towards my car.
Tuesday, February 4, 2014
Blueberry - Part 2 of 4
When I flipped over the picture, my heart was slamming and my hands were sweaty. I seen 4 girls standing with their arms around each other. They were all cute, but the one on the end in the blue, Nike tee shirt captured my attention immediately. She was simply adorable. I can still picture her smiling face in that photo, ever so vividly. All the other girls in the photo had suddenly vanished.
She was thin with messy black hair up in a bun. Her slightly rosy cheeks accentuated her silly looking braces, she had talked about them often. Her orthodontist visits were often a topic of our conversations. Her face lit up the photo, and her smile lit up my life. It was at that very moment, in which I truly felt alive for the first time.
I have no idea how long I starred at that photograph because the concept of time had somehow vanished completely. It was in this; "mesmerized" state of mind in which I took a breath, soaked it all in, and I just smiled. This warm fuzz feeling was like tidal waves of admiration gushing through my stomach. I just couldn't put the picture down. How could this be the girl whom I had been speaking to for hours upon hours? Why was she always so self conscious? The girl was gorgeous, inside and out.
Maybe I was just being bias? Perhaps, it was the fact that I was already in love with her personality, and she wasn't all that good looking? Maybe it was just a case of ; "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". But I can tell you this much, I have yet to see another photograph or person to ever take my breath away.
She was the first girl that I ever really cared about sincerely. This was the girl whom I had told all of my secrets to and opened up my heart to. It was such a surreal moment, one that can only ever be possibly understood by experience.
All of my "real life" friends were really judgmental, I could never talk to them the way I could with her. I always had to be a tough guy who wouldn't let anybody punk me. If you let somebody see a weakness in you, they would exploit it until the end. The same concept went for my brothers, if I ever tried to go to them with my feelings, they would laugh and use it as ammo to make fun of me.
Plus, I never really had any type of relationship with my father, so that was always completely out of the question. There had been times when I had attempted to talk to my mom about issues that bothered me, but she would never understand and I would get so frustrated every time.
Teenage years are probably the most sensitive time in the growth of the human mind. So, having nobody to confide in on a non-bias level was very difficult. All of my problems and insecurities were always locked away in a safe place. Therefore, when I met Blueberry, I really latched on to her compassionate, understanding nature.
Once I finally snapped back to reality, I remembered that there was another photo. This one was a close-up of her and one of the girls from the other photo. Again, my heart sank to the floor like a roller-coaster at full speed.
This was when it all became real. Suddenly it hit me that my telephone friend was not just a sweet voice, but a gorgeous girl. Here is a person who had become one of my best friends for over a year, suddenly personified by the simple opening of a letter. I felt like everything was about to change.
Then I remembered that I too had sent photos of myself. You see, the day we finally decided to send photos of ourselves, we had agreed to send them on the same day. I mean, it was only fair.
My insecurities began to run rampant in my head. My photos were garbage compared to hers, I would most certainly appear hideous to her. Therefore, my astonishment from her photos quickly turned into terrible fear. Compared to her, I was ugly as sin. She would certainly reject me and never want to talk to me again! Here was this sweet, adorable girl with whom I had grown so close with. And then there was me. A lanky, goofy, big eared, acne faced, looking loser who was never even good enough for his own father. My apprehensions dug a hole the size of an exploded grenade in my stomach.
I began to wish that this was a nightmare and that I would soon awake from it. Why couldn't she have been a groteste, fat pig? I wouldn't have minded one bit, I really wouldn't have! I would have never even batted an eye. She was my lovely little Blueberry whom I had become so close to, and now she was going to never want to talk to me again.
I was so afraid to talk to her after our photo exchange that I avoided the party line. It was my attempt to try to block this horrible experience from my life, but it was all I thought about. Finally, she called my house and told me to get on the party line. We would sometimes have 1 minute long distance calls in order to meet on the free party line.
To my shock, she didn't think my photos were hideous at all! We talked and talked about each others photos for hours. I have never been more relieved in my life, and I couldn't believe it. I could finally breath again. Our telephone routine went back to its same old pattern. And every few months or so, we would send each other more and more photos. It almost became a ritual.
2 more Years passed with this same routine until I was 17 and she was 16. By this time, I was madly in love with her, and I'm pretty sure she knew it. Over the years we had always said it to eachother on a friendly level, but I meant it with every bone in my body. In fact, I was pretty sure that this would be the girl I would marry.
I had my drivers license for over a year now. I had been planning to drive the hour and a half to meet her and hang out with her at her house for a while now. There was only one problem, I was terrified beyond words.
But, the time had come. It was now or never. It was time to be a man and go through with it. I was positive that if I didn't go, I would surely regret it forever. Now, just because I had built up the courage to go, I was far too afraid to go alone.
I recruited my friend Dom to come with me, there was just no way I could've done it alone. Thankfully he agreed to go along with me. So on a winter afternoon in January of 2000, he began the drive up 81 north. Although it was an hr and a half drive, it felt like we got there in 5 minutes. Millions of thoughts were racing through my head the whole drive, I barely even spoke a word to Dom. I was numb.
We drove by the house looking for the numbers until we found it. It was easy to tell from the outside that it was a really nice house. This of course only added to my fears since my house was over 100 years old and looked like it was ready to fall over.
I quickly performed an L turn and then drove again right past the house. Dom asked me why I didn't pull into the driveway. I explained to him that I needed to go find a pay phone and let her know that we would be there in 5 minutes. It was obviously just a ploy to stall, but I was a nervous wreck. I quickly found a phone booth in front of a gas station just at the end of the road and called her. I told her we were down the street and would be there in a couple minutes.
My heart was bumping out of my chest, I thought it would explode. After 3 years and countless hours and hours of chatting on the phone was about to culminate any second. I tried to calm myself down and act all manly, but it was useless. We drove back up her road and I pulled my moms 1992 buick century into the driveway.
As we exited the car and approached the house, I made Dom walk in front of me. The door opened before we could even knock.
She was thin with messy black hair up in a bun. Her slightly rosy cheeks accentuated her silly looking braces, she had talked about them often. Her orthodontist visits were often a topic of our conversations. Her face lit up the photo, and her smile lit up my life. It was at that very moment, in which I truly felt alive for the first time.
I have no idea how long I starred at that photograph because the concept of time had somehow vanished completely. It was in this; "mesmerized" state of mind in which I took a breath, soaked it all in, and I just smiled. This warm fuzz feeling was like tidal waves of admiration gushing through my stomach. I just couldn't put the picture down. How could this be the girl whom I had been speaking to for hours upon hours? Why was she always so self conscious? The girl was gorgeous, inside and out.
Maybe I was just being bias? Perhaps, it was the fact that I was already in love with her personality, and she wasn't all that good looking? Maybe it was just a case of ; "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". But I can tell you this much, I have yet to see another photograph or person to ever take my breath away.
She was the first girl that I ever really cared about sincerely. This was the girl whom I had told all of my secrets to and opened up my heart to. It was such a surreal moment, one that can only ever be possibly understood by experience.
All of my "real life" friends were really judgmental, I could never talk to them the way I could with her. I always had to be a tough guy who wouldn't let anybody punk me. If you let somebody see a weakness in you, they would exploit it until the end. The same concept went for my brothers, if I ever tried to go to them with my feelings, they would laugh and use it as ammo to make fun of me.
Plus, I never really had any type of relationship with my father, so that was always completely out of the question. There had been times when I had attempted to talk to my mom about issues that bothered me, but she would never understand and I would get so frustrated every time.
Teenage years are probably the most sensitive time in the growth of the human mind. So, having nobody to confide in on a non-bias level was very difficult. All of my problems and insecurities were always locked away in a safe place. Therefore, when I met Blueberry, I really latched on to her compassionate, understanding nature.
Once I finally snapped back to reality, I remembered that there was another photo. This one was a close-up of her and one of the girls from the other photo. Again, my heart sank to the floor like a roller-coaster at full speed.
This was when it all became real. Suddenly it hit me that my telephone friend was not just a sweet voice, but a gorgeous girl. Here is a person who had become one of my best friends for over a year, suddenly personified by the simple opening of a letter. I felt like everything was about to change.
Then I remembered that I too had sent photos of myself. You see, the day we finally decided to send photos of ourselves, we had agreed to send them on the same day. I mean, it was only fair.
My insecurities began to run rampant in my head. My photos were garbage compared to hers, I would most certainly appear hideous to her. Therefore, my astonishment from her photos quickly turned into terrible fear. Compared to her, I was ugly as sin. She would certainly reject me and never want to talk to me again! Here was this sweet, adorable girl with whom I had grown so close with. And then there was me. A lanky, goofy, big eared, acne faced, looking loser who was never even good enough for his own father. My apprehensions dug a hole the size of an exploded grenade in my stomach.
I began to wish that this was a nightmare and that I would soon awake from it. Why couldn't she have been a groteste, fat pig? I wouldn't have minded one bit, I really wouldn't have! I would have never even batted an eye. She was my lovely little Blueberry whom I had become so close to, and now she was going to never want to talk to me again.
I was so afraid to talk to her after our photo exchange that I avoided the party line. It was my attempt to try to block this horrible experience from my life, but it was all I thought about. Finally, she called my house and told me to get on the party line. We would sometimes have 1 minute long distance calls in order to meet on the free party line.
To my shock, she didn't think my photos were hideous at all! We talked and talked about each others photos for hours. I have never been more relieved in my life, and I couldn't believe it. I could finally breath again. Our telephone routine went back to its same old pattern. And every few months or so, we would send each other more and more photos. It almost became a ritual.
2 more Years passed with this same routine until I was 17 and she was 16. By this time, I was madly in love with her, and I'm pretty sure she knew it. Over the years we had always said it to eachother on a friendly level, but I meant it with every bone in my body. In fact, I was pretty sure that this would be the girl I would marry.
I had my drivers license for over a year now. I had been planning to drive the hour and a half to meet her and hang out with her at her house for a while now. There was only one problem, I was terrified beyond words.
But, the time had come. It was now or never. It was time to be a man and go through with it. I was positive that if I didn't go, I would surely regret it forever. Now, just because I had built up the courage to go, I was far too afraid to go alone.
I recruited my friend Dom to come with me, there was just no way I could've done it alone. Thankfully he agreed to go along with me. So on a winter afternoon in January of 2000, he began the drive up 81 north. Although it was an hr and a half drive, it felt like we got there in 5 minutes. Millions of thoughts were racing through my head the whole drive, I barely even spoke a word to Dom. I was numb.
We drove by the house looking for the numbers until we found it. It was easy to tell from the outside that it was a really nice house. This of course only added to my fears since my house was over 100 years old and looked like it was ready to fall over.
I quickly performed an L turn and then drove again right past the house. Dom asked me why I didn't pull into the driveway. I explained to him that I needed to go find a pay phone and let her know that we would be there in 5 minutes. It was obviously just a ploy to stall, but I was a nervous wreck. I quickly found a phone booth in front of a gas station just at the end of the road and called her. I told her we were down the street and would be there in a couple minutes.
My heart was bumping out of my chest, I thought it would explode. After 3 years and countless hours and hours of chatting on the phone was about to culminate any second. I tried to calm myself down and act all manly, but it was useless. We drove back up her road and I pulled my moms 1992 buick century into the driveway.
As we exited the car and approached the house, I made Dom walk in front of me. The door opened before we could even knock.
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