9/26/2007

To Each His (Or Her) Own

Yet another bizarre night in the life of "he who must not be named". I'm in my pajamas on my bed browsing the Internet at around 10:30 p.m. when I get asked to accompany my aunt to the casino. Not wanting to pass up another random adventure, I said yes. I brought up the fact that I didn't have an I.D. but she said it probably wouldn't be a problem. To my surprise and relief, it wasn't. We just walked right in. After dropping me off at my requested destination: the bar, she left me for the blackjack tables.

Like all bars I've been to, there was only sports playing on all of their displays. I had a quick drink and then decided to tour the place. I walked around, but not too far from where I was. I weaved in and out of isles of slots, wandered over to the blackjack tables, and like a magnet I was pulled back to the bar. Unfortunately when I got back, it was past a certain time they served alcohol, so I sampled some of the food they had on display and asked for a soda instead. After that I separated myself from the bar, took a seat on a comfy couch in the same vicinity, and pulled out the book that I brought with me: The God Delusion.

A waitress came over to where I was sitting and asked if I wanted anything to drink. For some odd reason, I asked for cranberry juice. I have absolutely no idea why I asked for cranberry juice. Out of everything I could have possibly asked for to drink, cranberry juice would usually be my last choice. I didn't even hesitate, nor did I take back the order. It turned out to be the best cranberry juice I've ever tasted. And yes, I will be dreaming about cranberry juice tonight.

Anyway, when the waitress dropped off my drink she inquired about the book I was reading. I told her it was the author's take on religion in general. She then asked me what my religion was and I told her that I was an atheist. She then leaned over and sort of whispered, "As an atheist, how do you explain how this fucked up world is holding itself together?". As she stood up, I smiled at her, shook my head, and said, "I have no idea". Being the playful, curious person she was, she asked me if I'd be willing to attend church with her. "Well, I, uh", was what followed. I wasn't sure if she was being literal or not, and having an open mind like I do I didn't want just say no. Looking like she had just made me feel uncomfortable, she started to walk away. I quickly blurted out, "what church?". She turned around and came back over to my table and sat down this time across from me.

She explained how she was raised a Christian and continued to tell a story about how she was very sick at a young age and how praying and attending church help her get better. "The doctors has no clue what was wrong with me". This kind of reminded me of those church channels you flip by when you're looking for something to watch on tv. A televised church service in this huge cathedral packed to the max, of an old lady in a wheelchair who when is touched by the sermon, is miraculously cured and is able to stand and walk around. I don't believe she was lying to me; she seemed sincere enough. I didn't quite feel like getting into the whole religious debate, so I just sat there and said, "wow". I mean, what else could I have said? Seeing how the conversation didn't seem to be progressing, she ended it with, "well, to each his own I guess". "That's right", I said and she got up and walked away.

There were a number of reasons why I didn't continue the conversation. One being that she probably had to get back to her job. If she was just a guest at the casino, I might have talked a bit more with her, although I'm not sure where it would go. Being a skeptic, I might have addressed the health issue. It's not uncommon that illnesses go undiagnosed. From what I know, many of them turn out to be mental illnesses that the patient both creates and cures themselves over time. I also probably would have said that just one unexplainable phenomenon isn't enough to prove the existence of a god. But who knows how she might have responded.

In the end I'm glad it ended the way it did. To each his own, believe what you want to believe.

9/25/2007

Perforated Connections

It's nearing 3:00 a.m. I'm cuddled up in the corner of my full sized bed, pondering as usual. Tonight about emptiness. About perforated notebook paper, chain links, and atoms made up of mostly empty space. All held together, but not without vast emptiness.

And I'm wondering. What exactly is this void? Why does it exist? Can it be filled?

If there's any hope for me, I have to find these answers.

9/22/2007

Hey, Good Lookin'

Almost every story I've come across whether it be a book or a movie in which there is romance involved, there is always some sort of mention of good looks. For me, this detracts from the story; I mean, is it really necessary? What it seems to suggest is that if these good looks weren't present, the attraction wouldn't exist in full. And even though I seem to be contradicting myself due to my last post, I really would like to see the mention of such a thing omitted from such works.

That is all.

9/12/2007

"You're so cute"

On one of my several mile walks home in the past week, I received a compliment that I thought about for the rest of the day. I was crossing the street while looking left to see any oncoming traffic. Halfway to the other side I caught a glimpse of a woman in her early 30's or so in an suv coming up on my left. As she passed me, she shouted out, "you're so cute". I whipped my head to right and watched as she drove away. I stood there for a minute somewhat perplexed. My first thought was, "I wish that were true". I wondered if she was telling the truth or not. It didn't sound to me like she was being sarcastic, but who knows.

A bit later, I took back that first thought. I didn't wish it were true. I don't care if it's true or not. Then I thought, "Is it safe to say that I don't care about my looks?". I suppose it is to a certain extent. I just spent thousands of dollars to straighten out my teeth, so obviously it isn't true that I don't care about what I look like. It's one of those things you think about every day, every time you look into the mirror. "What would my life be like if I were more attractive?". "With my current state of mind, would I even want to be more attractive?".

It's a tough decision no matter which way I look at it. I remember in the movie, A Knight's Tale, a bishop told one of the main characters that it was a curse to have good looks. Although I wouldn't use the word "curse", I would have to somewhat agree with the statement. For an extremely attractive person, I would imagine that it would be pretty difficult to differentiate between superficial people and those who couldn't care less about appearance. For me, that would be a big problem. I could be wrong, but the way I see it, the "uglier" you are the easier it is to see this distinction.

Unfortunately in this world, looks matter. I won't deny it, they matter to me as well, but they aren't paramount. I've beaten myself up over this many times for seeking and idolizing 'beautiful' people, but I've learned that it's just human instinct. It just can't be helped. It is for this reason that I keep up my appearance. On a scale from one to ten, I'd rate myself in the area from five to seven, average I suppose, and I'm content with that.

9/03/2007

One for the Record, part 5

Believe it or not this is the final part... I know it's sad; my night was finally coming to an end....but not without a finale! I had about a mile or so to go from the bar and I was totally up for the walk. Actually at the time, I probably wouldn't have minded if I had another five miles to go.

I was flying high, skipping and doing cartwheels down the sidewalk on my way home. Actually, that's lie...although something similar was going on in my head. Still on main street, my old elementary school was coming up on my left and the church where I used to attend catechism was down the street to the right. I also remembered that I had a cousin who lived near the church whom I haven't seen in a few years. She was a night owl like I am, so since it wasn't out of the way, my semi drunk self waddled down the right street for a late night visit.

Her porch light was on which made it easy to spot, but her car wasn't there. As I approached her driveway, a small white car pulled in. I didn't stop walking, but I slowed my pace so that I could see who it was. I was a bit past her driveway at this point, but I still couldn't tell who it was so I stopped. It was neither of her parents, so I gave it a chance and called out her name. She looked around and I could tell it was her, so I quickly identified myself. "My long lost cousin!", she said as she walked over to give me a hug. I explained why I was randomly walking down her street in the middle of the night, then she offered me a ride home. Of course, I took her up on that.

Turns out she got a new car since the last time I saw her. We both kept laughing at the strange coincidence that we were in the same spot at the same time. If either of us were twenty seconds off, we wouldn't have ran into each other. Not knowing what kind of car she now had, I wouldn't have guessed she was home if I had gotten there just a tad later....likewise I would have completely missed her if hadn't taken all of my random detours.

I invited her in to chat a bit when we arrived at my house, so she came in. We were a tad loud and I didn't want to wake anyone up, so I gave my sister a call at her new apartment to see if we could all visit and catch up a bit. Naturally, she was also up and about...it seems to run in the family. She said sure, so we hopped back in her car and drove over to her place. We didn't stay long, but it was nice to catch up and reconnect. After about an hour, we said our goodbyes.

All in all, an extremely interesting night.Interesting enough for me to write all about it, spanning out to five parts! As of now I still don't know why my license got suspended. I have a court date on September 10th, so hopefully I find out then. I took my car to a garage the next day and got an estimate of much more than I'm willing to spend at the moment to fix the exhaust system. For now I'm just going to buy some muffler patch and hopefully that'll smother the sound for now.

This will probably be it for my storytelling for a while, unless I get lucky enough to experience something similar. I suppose it's all up to me! Well, we'll see.

9/02/2007

One for the Record, Part 4

Now I'm not sure if we really shared the same name or not; perhaps she just said that so I'd give her a big tip. Nonetheless, I was able to order some drinks.

That first Sam Adams was highly satisfying so I had to order another one. While I drank, my attention switched between the tv across the bar and a conversation being had by a man and woman four stools to the left of me. Out of the twenty minutes or so that I sat there, I didn't hear the man say one word; I suppose that's typical though. She was describing the end of her marriage of 15 or so years and the ever so common struggle thereafter. It was sort of like watching an episode of Maury, except the host wasn't saying anything, so I lost interest pretty quickly.

The beers were indeed yummy, but they weren't doing much damage so I ordered something with a bit more kick. The only thing that I could think of that wasn't too fancy was a long island iced tea, so that's what I asked for. It certainly did the trick. I felt my spirits rise as I started to laugh about the events so far that night. I wanted it to last my full walk home, so I decided to leave. I took a quick trip to their restroom that didn't lock, said goodnight and thanks so the bartender, and left the bar with a smirk.

9/01/2007

One for the Record, Part 3

It isn't uncommon that I randomly imagine my demise, so I wasn't phased much. At this point it was around 11:30 p.m. and I was about one fourth of the way there.

I was nearing my old neighborhood so I decided to take a small detour to check out the house I lived in for six years. The house itself looked exactly the same, it was still tan with green shutters. The garage even still had the attached basketball hoop that seemed to be hanging by a thread the last time I was there. I moved in for a closer look but as I got the base of the driveway a spotlight came on so I decided it best to keep moving, especially since I could hear conversation across the street. As I walked, I imagined how funny it would be if they called the cops on me. I made a complete circle around the neighborhood back to main street attaching names of old friends to houses as I went. A little further down main street I noticed a small bar on the corner of a miniature one floor office building. Considering how I wasn't in any rush and in dire need of a drink, I decided to check the place out.

Not wanting to awkwardly roam around, I took the first stool I saw at the bar. It was indeed a small place. There were around 15 stools around the oval shaped bar which sort of hugged the wall on the right when you walked in. They had two small tv's hung up on the walls with major league baseball playing on both. On opposite sides of the room were a pool table and a jukebox. The pool table was closer to the bar while a small dining area of a couple booths and several tables accompanied the jukebox. There were about ten people there when I entered. Four people at the bar itself, three playing pool, and three standing near one of the tv's with beers in their hands watching the game. They were all guys except one. From where I was sitting I'd say their ages ranged from thirty to fifty. As I was looking at the closest tv trying to determine who was playing I heard a female ask me for an ID. I turned my head back to the bar and got my first look at the bartender. I suppose she was in her mid 30's. She had shoulder length blonde hair with that wet look to it, a pink t-shirt, and pretty night jeans. She wasn't too bad looking, although nothing spectacular. I rummaged through my pockets and pulled out my wallet. As soon as I opened it I remembered the cop had taken my license. I quickly explained my situation while shuffling through my wallet. I threw my student ID up on the counter hoping it had my date of birth on it while I continued my search. Library card, debit cards, insurance cards, nothing had my date of birth. I looked up at her and said I was sorry just after finishing my story. I pulled the movies out of my pocket to prove that at least part of my story was true, although not the important part. Looking up from my student ID, she asked me my first name. After my response, she held out her hand as to shake mine and as we shook she told me we shared the same name. "Nice to meet you, what can I get for you", was what she said next. I thanked her and asked for a Sam Adams.

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