It is March 2009 and this is my first blog post of the year--Sorry, So, what can I write about in the last three months since the last post? I am not going to fib. The Real World (not to be confused with the MTV Reality series) sucks, plain and simple. It's everyone for themselves. The fight is ALWAYS on and the real world separates the women and men from the girls and boys. Some grow up quickly and mature, while others, unfortunately, take more time to reconsider their behavior. The question is how to adapt to the new environment and make it worthwhile. I grew up quickly a day after Christmas.
On a chilly, rainy night of Dec. 26th, I was sititng at a local bar called Koscuisko's with my friend Dave, his father, Mark, Mark's beer buddy, Henry, or Hud, and Dave's Uncle and cousin. Before we sat, Henry was selling raffle tickets for a dollar to help benefit the bar, I believe. Nothing out the ordinary. The ticket had five random numbers behind five individial strips of paper and the drawing was set for 8:00 P.M. A half hour before the drawing, I have noticed the other fellow barmates opening their raffle tickets. I did the same. Dave stopped me in my tracks.
"Do not open the ticket just yet." he said.
"Why not?" I replied.
"Because it is not time yet. " he rebuttled.
"Dude, it is my ticket. I bought it with my own money. I can do whatever I damn well please with it!" I answered.
Mark leans over to Dave, "What is the matter?"
"Travis is being smart with me." At this point, I started to steam a bit.
"Being smart with you! Being smart with you! Listen here, I am sick and tired of you telling me what to and not to do. I am sick and tired of me playing second fiddle to you. I have had it."
I quickly became enraged with anger and frustration. Why is he telling me what to do? I do not do that to him. Why he has the audacity to do it to me? This may seem trivial, but this was the turning point in our friendship. I looked at him straight in his shocked, but bewildered eyes. Steam was coming out of my ear. My eye twitched, desperately wanting to knock his teeth down his throat. I refrained. I refrained becuase if I did take a swing, what would that prove? It would prove to me being kicked out of the bar unceremoniously by the barmates. I did not want to endore that treatment.
"Get out of here right now!" Dave ordered.
I rose up from my stool, laid the raffle ticket down on the bar, grabbed my raincoat, and stormed out of the bar fuming. I talked angrily to myself, cursing to Dave for his actions. It did not make any sense. I walked on the drenched, puddle-filled roads of Mount Pleasant back home, telling and calming myself down that everything will be alright once things cooled down. Half block away from home, I walked around the outside primeter of an Ace Hardware store when I received a text message from Dave. It said, "Why in the F*uck did you do that? You are such a f*cking loser. A true man would hit the other man if something bothered him that much! Oh, by the way, you owe Dad money for the beer tonight and me money for the last time we were at the bar! If you do not have it by the end of tonight, I will come down to kick your ass!" I thought, "Oh, great! He is threatening me now because I left the bar with my pride in tact all behind the confort of a cell phone. What a man he is!" I replied his text message, "You will have the money by the end of tonight. Stop with calling me names. This is totally pointless! I do not want to be associated with a sex hound! This friendship is over!"
I ran home, almost hyperventilating, still trying to calm myself down. Couple minutes later, I resumed back outside in the monsoon, with my glasses fogging up, and holding a wet, dying cell phone. As I marched towards his house, I slowly began to realize that our friendship was nearing its conclusion. I became emotional because Dave was first friend when I moved to Mount Pleasant 13 years ago and became almost like a brother. He was my brother at tiimes. We attended the same high school together. I watched him play Final Fanatsy on the PlayStation. We bowled every Saturday in a League. He taught everything i needed to know about bowling. However, we were heading into two different paths. I wanted a plan that consisted of starting my career and getting on foot professionally. Dave wanted to take it one day at a time, but mostly having "fun" along the way. His vision of fun includes going to the bar nightly and taking booty calls. Sorry, not my cup of tea. He wanted to create his own version of me and I did not allow that to happen. No two people are alike. His personal values clashed with mine. I stood up for mine. Sobbing and nearly blinded, I approached his porch, stuck a twenty in the mailbox, and left for home. My cell died completely on the return trip home. It needed to be air-dried out for a few hours. When the cell was operational again, I received a text from Dave, as he called me names and threatened me once again. I replied for the final time stating the friendship is over. This is immature. I do not want to talk to you again. Dec. 26th was the last day we spoke to each other. I have no intention in speaking with Dave again.
I learned that friends do not last forever. Friendships, regardless of length, should be a fifty-fifty partnership. Both should share similar ideas, thoughts, and tolerate one's dislikes about one another. Dave disrespected me as a person and depreciated what I have done for him. I stood by him as things got tough. I listened to every gripe he had to say. I sacrificed quality study time to listen to him, sobbing on the phone about his break-up. I felt as time progressed he took me for granted. Friends do NOT order others in what to do. We are humans and prone in making mistakes. Making mistakes builds tremendous character. I had my fairshare of them, but I learned from each one. Friends can influence your decisions in life, but you are the one in proceeding those choices.
I cannot stand Valentine's Day! Aghhh! Valentine's Day stands for overcommericalization of candies and roses, writing sappy, mindless love poems in cards, and high anticipation for making whoopie with your sweetie! This holiday makes me want to vomit. I was single, still single, once again. I am not picky, just keeping my options open. Women are indeed a complicated species. Some want the nice guy. Some want the badboy. Some may want the feminine type, or others may want a combination of personalities. I cannot figure out what makes them tick. I do know that they want to be secure and safe when they are with a man. Valentine's Day gives the man to showcase his romantic side or softer side to his hard exterior. Likewise, a woman can demonstrate her affection for him and why he is so special to her. But, why do you need a sappy holiday, like Valentine's Day, to show admiration and love for one another? I believe you are in a serious relationship with a significant other, show them EVERY DAY your affection. Do something creatively to show you are on their minds. A simple act of kindness for them might do the trick. I am not a love guru, but it's a suggestion. Do not leave it for occasions like Christmas or waiting for Cupid to spark the fire. When I do see a couple in love, I get discouraged because I do want a long-term relationship. However, at this juncture, I need to take care of myself and get afloat professionally before I fish in the waters. I can look, but I cannot touch! I have been burned before in finding that match, and I do want to be hasty in my decisions. There are a couple of prospects out there, but I will save that for a future post.
Speaking of the day of adorable, underwearing, Cupid, that crazy love dude sent me the weirdest arrow I ever received. The week of February 16th started out peculiar and stayed that way. First of all, on Monday, I was waken up by the garbage truck at 8:30 am. The garbage truck arrived approximately four ahead of schedule. It threw me a freaking curve ball and I struck out missing! Later on that day, I received an email from Waste Management, the garbage company that routinely picks up the garbage. They were looking for an assistant driver helper, aka the person that stands on the itty, bitty platform on the back of the truck. Irony, far out, but no thanks.
Tuesday afternoon arrives as I check my latest news on Facebook. I received notice indicating someone sent me a flirt on an application called Zoosk. Usually Zoosk sends you flirts persuading to connect with people around your area. This flirt was not anywhere near my hometown. It was not even remotely close to the Commonwealth. Irving, TX was the unfortunate location of the flirt. Irving, Texas houses the Dallas Cowboys and I dispise the franchise with a passion! Since I was already having a crazy week, I obiliged to go ahead because the person included her email address. I sent the recipient by short autobiography and waited anxiously for a reply. A few hours later I got my wish. The good news, the recipient is a woman. The bad news, she is not from Texas. She hails from Nigeria! Yes, Nigeria! African country Nigeria! This "woman" named Grace Jones, to generic of a name, if you ask me, has a Master's Degree, age 26, and wants a long-term relationship. Here is the back story. Back in November, Grace and her then boyfriend, Dave, traveled to Nigeria to visit Dave's uncle. They rented a hotel room because the uncle was out of town. Grace was looking forward to the trip and was excited to spend quality time with her man. That was not Dave's plan at all. It was more of an evil, sick, diabolical plan. On New Year's Eve, Dave drugged Grace and took all her money, most of her luggage, and left her with the outstanding hotel bill. I received this outrageous story all in the first email! Reading the email was extremely painful because the unfortunate content touched me, but the composition was equally painful to decipher. Near the end of the email, she said she owed the hotel $550. She needs to pay it to retrieve her passport and her return flight expires next week.
She signs the email by including 11 pictures of her. I looked at the pictures and was captivated by her. She stood about 5'5" with smooth, straight, long black hair, brown eyes, curvaceous body, and plush lips. Her rump and chest complimented her entire body too. She was a Puerto Rican desent, as a bonus. As you can tell by the descriptions, I really wanted to help. We exchanged emails by me conforting her, telling her that everything will be alright, and describing to her what I want in a relationship. I have noticed, with each resonding email, she increasingly pushes me to send her money to get her out of the country. I talked to the one person I can talk without being over ridiculed, my dad. I revealed to him the whole story. Dad warned me to be very careful. Nigeria is notorious for setting up money scams. I was nieve to believe him. I secretly went ahead with a plan. I communicated to her that I will send to her a fraction of the debt. I even pawned off my favorite gold chain with a Steelers charm. I hope that isn't an omen! I contacted Western Union to set up a money transfer. Fortunately for me, my mistake was my second chance. I realized I am sending money to a person I barely met. I am uncertain if she does exist and I am afraid it is a complicated scam. The next Monday, I sent Grace a final email wishing her luck. I tried valiantly to help, and I cannot continue to progress.
Be careful of who you talk too on the Internet. The internet is a tricky character. It allows people to conceal their own identities and they try to persuade you in helping them, usually for money. I dodged a bullet, but it could been much worse. Love, along with the lovable goofball, Cupid, are slithe and tricky. Do not let love get the best of you. There is someone for everyone, but keep your eyes open!
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