How 'bout those Mets?
This will be a painfully honest post. Today as I walked to the record store,(Where I indeed bought the new Fugazi which is probably some of their best work yet. I just stopped typing for about a minute to listen. It is so fucking catchy. God damn.) On the way to the record store, I was thinking about what I realize to be an unconscious reason of why I do not like sports. When I was 4th or 5th grade My Dad took me to see the Mets play at Shea Stadium. I grew up on Long Island and Shea was only about 7 miles from my hometown. On the drive home after the game (the Mets had won-not that either me or my Dad was a sports-fan really), we were on this exit ramp which had a traffic light at the end. The light was red and the cars were starting to back up. As we all slowed down the elderly woman in the car in front of us tapped the bumper of the car directly in front of hers. The guy who had been hit got out of his car as did the elderly woman. As soon as the guy got there he began yelling at this woman, he was really close to her and screaming directly into her face. My Dad got out of the car and walked up to them defending the old woman and telling the guy to back off. The guy started yelling at my Dad and my Dad reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade, which he then flicked open and took a swipe at the guy with it. The back jumped back quickly and therefore my Dad's knife missed him. The light changed and we all got back in our cars (fortunately I never got out of the car). As we drove, the guys’ car pulled up on our left, the guy's girlfriend who was also present and now back in the passenger's seat, shouted that they had our license plate number and were going to call the cops. She than added that we better have a good lawyer. I screamed: “ We sure did!!!!” at them. Why I don't know, other than of couse I was 10. We then drove someplace where I can't remember, and my Dad threw the knife into some tall grass.
Later that night the phone rang and it was a detective. My Dad proceeded to deny everything. Then the detective asked to talk to me. When my Dad came and got me he told me that I needed to deny everything and say that there was no knife. I was told to say that they only argued. I then said ”…..but I was told to always tell the truth and that there was no knife is a lie.” My Dad then told me that if I didn't say that, that he was going to jail!!!! He seemed really pissed that I was even thinking about telling the truth. I then got on the phone and said some things I don't remember and then the Detective said "So there was no knife?" and I said that "If anyone had a knife it was the other guy but no there was no knife." I recall nothing beyond this point.
Now I get to the store and buy the new Fugazi and on the way home I run into this guy I went to college with. His name is Ken and he used to date this girl Meghan. He was best friend's with Scott LaGraize who dated Chrissy (my old boss at Sam Goody). So we keep looking at each other as if we recognize one another from across the street. Until finally he calls my name Scott then quickly followed by Opie. We actually go to shake hands but end up hugging instead. I always thought he was kind of annoying but I also thought he was really nice too, and when you are home all day you don’t mind seeing just about anyone most of the time. What I am saying though, is that this might not necessarily be a hug-worthy meeting. Anyway he introduces me to his girlfriend. He is older than me and his girlfriend is like 20 and skinny as a fucking rail. I shook hands with her and it was all fucking bones. Jesus. Anyway we then do the catch-up thing. Turns out he just passed the Barre exam. I was legitimately impressed. Being that most times I couldn’t pass a Rorshach test any thing of that stature is really impressive to me. And then of course MWC (Mary Washington college) has to come up. Turns out that his girlfriend’s cousin was some chick who used to come into the coffee-house on campus and thus the girl knows Fredericksburg people and has heard stories of me. I was then forced to tell him that I have blocked out a lot of things that happened at MWC and that those were some really dark times for me. I then regretfully did not remember her cousin’s name when it was presented for recognition. He then said he had to go get his girlfriend something to eat , and asked for my number-which I gave to him. I wonder if he’ll call. Knowing him—probably. Oh well, I don’t have to answer the phone if I don’t want to. Unfortunately just seeing him brings up some really difficult memories----unbelievable depression, intense sexual confusion, loneliness, an ex-girlfriend I can’t stand, people I don’t like etc…. Which makes for a fun time for me.
So what I am saying is here’s to thinking about shit, you don’t want to think about. You now have my soul.
This will be a painfully honest post. Today as I walked to the record store,(Where I indeed bought the new Fugazi which is probably some of their best work yet. I just stopped typing for about a minute to listen. It is so fucking catchy. God damn.) On the way to the record store, I was thinking about what I realize to be an unconscious reason of why I do not like sports. When I was 4th or 5th grade My Dad took me to see the Mets play at Shea Stadium. I grew up on Long Island and Shea was only about 7 miles from my hometown. On the drive home after the game (the Mets had won-not that either me or my Dad was a sports-fan really), we were on this exit ramp which had a traffic light at the end. The light was red and the cars were starting to back up. As we all slowed down the elderly woman in the car in front of us tapped the bumper of the car directly in front of hers. The guy who had been hit got out of his car as did the elderly woman. As soon as the guy got there he began yelling at this woman, he was really close to her and screaming directly into her face. My Dad got out of the car and walked up to them defending the old woman and telling the guy to back off. The guy started yelling at my Dad and my Dad reached into his back pocket and pulled out a switchblade, which he then flicked open and took a swipe at the guy with it. The back jumped back quickly and therefore my Dad's knife missed him. The light changed and we all got back in our cars (fortunately I never got out of the car). As we drove, the guys’ car pulled up on our left, the guy's girlfriend who was also present and now back in the passenger's seat, shouted that they had our license plate number and were going to call the cops. She than added that we better have a good lawyer. I screamed: “ We sure did!!!!” at them. Why I don't know, other than of couse I was 10. We then drove someplace where I can't remember, and my Dad threw the knife into some tall grass.
Later that night the phone rang and it was a detective. My Dad proceeded to deny everything. Then the detective asked to talk to me. When my Dad came and got me he told me that I needed to deny everything and say that there was no knife. I was told to say that they only argued. I then said ”…..but I was told to always tell the truth and that there was no knife is a lie.” My Dad then told me that if I didn't say that, that he was going to jail!!!! He seemed really pissed that I was even thinking about telling the truth. I then got on the phone and said some things I don't remember and then the Detective said "So there was no knife?" and I said that "If anyone had a knife it was the other guy but no there was no knife." I recall nothing beyond this point.
Now I get to the store and buy the new Fugazi and on the way home I run into this guy I went to college with. His name is Ken and he used to date this girl Meghan. He was best friend's with Scott LaGraize who dated Chrissy (my old boss at Sam Goody). So we keep looking at each other as if we recognize one another from across the street. Until finally he calls my name Scott then quickly followed by Opie. We actually go to shake hands but end up hugging instead. I always thought he was kind of annoying but I also thought he was really nice too, and when you are home all day you don’t mind seeing just about anyone most of the time. What I am saying though, is that this might not necessarily be a hug-worthy meeting. Anyway he introduces me to his girlfriend. He is older than me and his girlfriend is like 20 and skinny as a fucking rail. I shook hands with her and it was all fucking bones. Jesus. Anyway we then do the catch-up thing. Turns out he just passed the Barre exam. I was legitimately impressed. Being that most times I couldn’t pass a Rorshach test any thing of that stature is really impressive to me. And then of course MWC (Mary Washington college) has to come up. Turns out that his girlfriend’s cousin was some chick who used to come into the coffee-house on campus and thus the girl knows Fredericksburg people and has heard stories of me. I was then forced to tell him that I have blocked out a lot of things that happened at MWC and that those were some really dark times for me. I then regretfully did not remember her cousin’s name when it was presented for recognition. He then said he had to go get his girlfriend something to eat , and asked for my number-which I gave to him. I wonder if he’ll call. Knowing him—probably. Oh well, I don’t have to answer the phone if I don’t want to. Unfortunately just seeing him brings up some really difficult memories----unbelievable depression, intense sexual confusion, loneliness, an ex-girlfriend I can’t stand, people I don’t like etc…. Which makes for a fun time for me.
So what I am saying is here’s to thinking about shit, you don’t want to think about. You now have my soul.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home