The quick answer for the above question is "No". I shaved my head because I was awakened at 5 AM to text messages that my Yahoo! email account was hacked. I appreciate my friends on the east coast letting me know, and am glad that so many folks called/emailed/texted me. The alternative of no one giving a shit is a sobering one. Since I had the time, I decided to dome up while keeping the scruffy beard that has been going on for almost 2 weeks. It might not last much longer, it's still warm out and this fucker is itchy.
I left a baseball game early. This is now the 3rd time in 35 years of living. For the record, I am not about to bash all women, but I for damn sure am about to lambaste a certain female, sorry, but she doesn't qualify as a woman in my book. She was a broad at best, and I'm leaving it there.
The first two times I left a ballgame early in my life, they were both for a date who wasn't interested in being there (the first being a Sox/Yankees game at Fenway, for the life of me I should've known not to keep chasing that one, but that is another story for another time), but this time it was to play wingman/run interference for an old roommate.
Backstory time-I haven't seen my old roommate Money Mike in damn near a year, and I now live about 2 miles from him. Amazing you would think, right? Not so much, we run in very different circles. This is not a bragadocious statement-I think I hang out with more real people than he does. I spend my free time with my close friends and their families. I call those 3 couples' kids my nieces and nephews, and enjoy all the moments I have with them. I'm certain someone reading this somewhere is thinking 'this guy should get out there and date or enjoy his singleness blahblahblah', and to that, I'd tell them that they are probably right. But I'm not in the mood. I have isolated myself for such a long time while unemployed and then jumping into work, I'm still broke. Not as broke as when I was unemployed, but now I'm broke in my own apartment. Face it, my 'freedom' has come at a price. It is one of the main reasons I am looking for another job. It comes down to money and talent. I'm too damn talented for what I make. Yeah, I said it, you heard me.
Money Mike has gone thru some changes, or so he told me a couple of weeks ago when he wanted me to go to his birthday party at a swanky restaurant. While I was invited to that, I had to turn it down, purely out of financial reasons. Also, I think it's weird when people celebrate their own birthdays. Yes, I know, I want to have a roller skating party for my birthday (hopefully the pain from this damn heel spur gets sorted out well beforehand), but that's not really to celebrate my birthday, it's more of an excuse to get people together and have fun. And if you don't think roller skating is a fun idea, quit reading what I write and go do what you think is cool, damn it. Bowling sucks! There, I said it.
So while my email was hacked, Money Mike called me to tell me he had an extra ticket to the baseball game. While I do love me some baseball, I was skeptical. There is always a catch with Money Mike, always always always an ulterior motive, something not square up or straight, but just off to the side. And I figured it out as soon as I met him at the bar before the game. I had asked him what the attire was for the evening, since he is nicknamed Money Mike for a reason. He told me shorts are alright, hence I wear shorts and a t-shirt. I show up and he's sportin' designer jeans, an extra-medium t-shirt and goin' out shoes.
We get to catching up, Money Mike tells me that he was almost engaged, did some shitty things to his ex (Shocking!!), that he's been seeing a therapist, he's moved, he goes to church, he lost a ton of weight. All I wanted to see, with my own eyes, face to face, is if this was a changed man or just lip service. Can I call it half-changed? For sake of this blog, kinda. That old cliche of a leopard not changing his spots is a cliche for a reason-because it's true.
And then the scrawny girl shows up...followed 5 minutes later by the aforementioned broad. Scrawny girl is perfectly nice, but here's the thing-I've changed. Big time, and for the better. I no longer dismiss people immediately, I'm more polite. My tried and true 'go fuck yourself' has been toned down. This may have had to do with the facts that I was exhausted from being awakened at 5 AM or the fact that I ended a shitty 4 day work week on a high note, so it didn't seem so shitty. Too much maybeline and WAY too skinny. Sorry, but I have to ask my boys that read this-why oh why are some people attracted to a woman who from behind resembles what I'm guessing is a 12 year old boy? That's nasty, right? I don't know about you, I likes my ladies to have some meat on them bones, makes for far more of a good time. I don't, that's just me, I might be nuts. Money Mike, meanwhile, has put his moves on Scrawny to let it be known that she is the target of his affection (?) for the evening. Brah, g'head, I don't like sticks, and I'm in no place to even consider anything of the sort right about now.
When the Broad shows up, I get the picture painted real clear and real fast-entertain the Broad. Weeellll, if there's 2 things I think I am capable of, it's making people laugh and being a pretty good wingman. And this wouldn't be the first time I did this for Money Mike. The bonus of doing this for him is my booze for the evening gets paid for, he tells me there might be some exciting business opportunity for me and I'll usually get something good to write about...and here we are!
I make my small talk, of course there is laughter, and I've picked up on something right away. The Broad has already sized me up, and cut me down in her mind (oh, sweet irony) to which I don't care, because I am not hitting on her. I'm not interested, mostly because of the man hands, the cheap lip gloss, the gigantic designer sunglasses (anyone else praying that evolution doesn't play its part and our heads don't grow into those things? Me, too!), overall attitude of mocking the bouncer and wait for it ('bout to get real mean here), she has HAAAA-UGGe pit stains on her shirt, sweatin' like Pat Ewing in the 4th quarter. Uh, no sexy. However, I still have a role here, maintain the funny and humor the Broad.
3 times in 5 minutes I'm asked "Can I use that line?", yup, I'm doing my job, that way ol' Money Mike can entertain Scrawny to his hearts content. Then I said something and received the "That's hilarious!" along with an offer of a fist bump (really? Ugh). And then she left to go to the smokers lounge. That sound you're hearing in your head right now is not the 'Strike Three!!' of the ump at the game, it's your Internal Ump. Yeah, I'm going to hook up with some dipshit broad that smokes 2 days before my Pops birthday, while wearing my 'Cancer Sucks' bracelet representing lung cancer, the very same cancer that took Pops life? Wanna see how I make a circle connect in my brain? Read 2 sentences above this until it connects, and there ya have it. I'm an asshole, but not THAT big of an asshole.
(Look, if I knew you before Pops got cancer and you smoked, we're on the level. I don't hate you or anything of the sort, I knew you before that disease took him away far too early for my liking. That is my issue, not yours. We straight on that? Moving on...)
After 4 innings of the Broad being non-existent, I am asked where she went by Scrawny. I take that as my sign to go look for her-which is better than watching Money Mike and her make out (ewwwww, it's in public). I found her in the smoking lounge, she's talking to some old guy, and I felt like I might have interrupted. I said so, and was told to sit down. Old guy leaves to go watch the ballgame, and the Broad tells me about the deep conversation they had about him being married for 45 years and not knowing what to do, but she had advice for him (of course she did, she's been on this earth for maybe 32 years, so naturally she knows what a 45 year marriage looks like), and it hit me like a ton of bricks-Money Mike and his ilk are the same-an inch deep and a mile wide, and I'm the opposite of that. I gave the nod to indicate I knew what she was saying, and was then told (I'm paraphrasing)-"Listen, you and I are going to be buddies. I just wanted you know that nothing is going to happen between us, we'll just be friends. Do you understand that?"
You bet your ass I didn't appreciate being talked to like I was simple. Then I remembered what the Broad does for a living-she's in high end IT sales, the people I loathe. They don't listen, they lack that fundamental skill, and they don't develop real relationships. Not a ton of repeat business with these types of people, lots of first time deals. My head immediately goes to 2 things-1)I haven't hit on this girl or flirted with her (checking my mental database-nope) and 2)what ended my shitty work week on a high note was rolling up my sleeves and getting something done that no one else had the wherewithall to do, sometimes knowing you did a good thing is the juice that will carry you into the next week. This Broad didn't get that, and who the fuck would want to be friends with her? I have enough friends, thanks. My friendships are deeper than the deep, and they mean something. I don't go around saying 'hi' to people and calling them friends. So I told her thanks for the update, but I wasn't wanting to go down that path myself. I told her I just wanted to come check up on her, at the asking of her friend Scrawny.
And then it got ugly, quick. Again, I mentioned earlier that I got sized up. It's what people do, I'm just as guilty. At least I'm funny (well, sometimes). The Broad said something else kind of along the lines of trying to be funny at my expense, and we were apparently leaving (in the 6th inning!!!) to go to another bar. And I said that they should all go (I know when I'm not welcome, I know when things are about to turn sour, better to leave, right?), and before I opened the door the Broad had something snarky to say. I don't remember what it was, but it was something along the lines of me no longer being funny and (here comes the turn, wait for it, wait for it....) I replied with, "uh, you really don't know me all that well, so please, tone it down a lil' bit" and she told me to get a sense of humor. (That door you just heard opening would be the asshole side of me waking up from a slumber, scratching his belly, and saying 'Oh, I'm up?'), which I told her I had a really good one, and she should have a good night.
This is that life lesson that one learns-sometimes it is better to walk away, to just get up and leave, then to stick around and have a bad time.
The Broad started to lose her shit (which makes me giggle-so calm, so cool, so 'it', yet me replying that I have a sense of humor makes her go ballistic, which plays into asshole me's hands oh so well) and says that I'm trying to put her into a box (welcome to the party, ya nutjob! WOW!) and that she's not going anywhere with me (way to make up that decision, since I just said 2 minutes ago that y'all should move along without me) to the point of starting to make a scene/pointing a finger at me. Yup, this happened. Money Mike asked me, "What the fuck just happened, did she just 'go bitch' on you like that? Crazy"
Scrawny takes the Broad for a walk back out to the smoking lounge while Money Mike wants to talk to me before I leave. Alright, one for the road. He talks and talks and talks and talks about trying to change his life, but the demons of his life comes out in his words and actions. He says he wants to be a guy who can be in a committed relationship, but then mentions all the cheating he's done in the past (uh, buddy, I covered for ya quite a bit while we were roommates, I was there), and how his latest ex was a little hefty for him (I've seen pictures, and my view of her physically is that she looked healthy) and that he didn't like that she had stretch marks because her 'boobs were so big'....(WTF? I'm sorry, but I could care less if a woman has stretch marks...if I got to that point of nekkidness, believe me, it's going down, I for damn sure am not pulling my drawers back up and telling her I can't deal with that.) He's changed, but not even remotely all the way to the guy he thinks he is.
I told Money Mike a truth-that this life is for him, not for me. He wants to bang out as many 'hot, dumb girls' as he can, and I'm a serial monogamist. That I was glad to see him, that I'm sorry I failed at being his wingman for the evening. He told me he didn't care about those girls, just glad that I came out and glad that he could reconnect with me. He told me I was and am a good influence (based on the other d-bags he hangs with, most guys in prison would be a step up on the morality scale, Christ), and he'd like for us to hang out more.
We shall see. As for the Broad-who cares? The only thing I'm pissed is the fact that I'm still slightly aggravated or I even thought this much to type out. Oh well. It does tie back to a conversation I had with my friends who went and visited their friends and family a couple of months ago, out to Pittsburgh and Boston. Their observation was that Denver has become quite snobbish and a bit full of itself. I don't go out much, but after looking at the scene last night, they're on to something. And it boils down to one thing-they're all clones that don't get that this is all one big ride. They lack depth, and think that dressing like everyone else and talking about nothing will get them far in life. I have a newsflash-yes, you make more money than I do. Good for you. But I'm broke and happy-can they say the same?
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Now playing:
Death Cab For Cutie - You Are A Touristvia FoxyTunes
