Creep
“I’m a creep/I’m a weirdo/What the hell am I doing here?/ I don’t belong here.” (Radiohead)
Eric. Eric is the cook on Sunday evenings at the wine bistro. Eric intrigues me. But not because he’s heavily involved in the theater department at the community college, not because he carries a selection of lighting filters around with him and certainly not because he has a fascination for guns and violence. He intrigues me because he’s 19 and we have a lot to talk about. Last Sunday was a particularly slow day at the bistro and Eric pulled out his homework. After 20 minutes or so he said, “Can you help me with my homework?” I felt so old. I didn’t think I would ever hear those words from anyone. Unable to help him, he put away the books and we made coffee. We stood around for hours or out smoking cigarettes just talking, drinking coffee on a a completely dreary and rainy day about…stuff. I forgot about feeling old. At one point, I made him laugh so hard that he called his friend right then and there and told him the joke. It made me feel good. While we talked, I drifted off for a few minutes and tried to remember what it was like being 19. I didn’t remember. I don’t remember! I realized that I don’t really remember a lot of being younger. I remember feelings, random things; things like that. Like I remember I didn’t like high school, but it’s really more of a feeling that I have now. I remember not going to class, but that’s about it. I remember feeling awkward and uncomfortable in my own skin at times. But all the ages, dates and times seem to run together. I marveled at how comfortable Eric seemed when speaking with a person older than him. I don’t know if I would have felt the same at his age. I am reminded of that movie “Big”. The longer Josh stays an adult, the more he forgets what it’s like to be a kid. I really didn’t see this coming. I never thought it would happen, either. I’m an adult, I guess. I mean, I technically have been for some time, but I actually feel like one now. And what is the definition of an “adult”? What constitutes you as one? Well, in my opinion, it comes down to experience. I handle certain situations easier because I have the experience. I don’t let things bother me as much because I have experience. I’m letting go; I don’t feel so awkward; all because of experience. It’s a strange coincidence…tonight at dinner my mother was talking about opening a bakery in the Philippines and calling it “The La PazExperience”. We laughed a little at the idea because 1. my mother does NOT bake. and 2. We thought the name was…funny. My mother insisted that she wanted to have some sort of business with the word “experience” in it. We continued throughout dinner trying to convince my mother to think of another name. I didn’t realize what a powerful word it is. To say you have experience in something could mean people believing you or not, knowing what to do in a situation and running a successful business. It’s life changing and definitely gives us a new point of view.
Near the end of my shift, Eric was explaining to me the the different lighting techniques he was considering using for a classmate’s short play. He told me the plot of the play and I said, “Hm. Sounds interesting.” And it did sound interesting. He pulled out a copy of the play and said, “You can read it if you want, it’s really short.” With which I replied, ” Nah, I don’t really care.” We chuckled lightly at my brutally honest answer. I guess it’s suffice to say Eric and I share the same sense of humor which in turn makes him easy to talk to. Only being 19, maybe Eric is one of the lucky ones who developed early socially and just knows how to compose himself around people and handle situations. After one last smoke, my shift was over and as I was getting ready to leave, me being only 5′2″, I reached up to Eric to give him a hug good-bye. We clumsily navigated our arms around each other, and as we let go Eric smiled and said, “That was awkward.”
Full story
Ok. So I went to the pharmacy around 6pm to fill my prescription and they told me it would be ready at 730pm. I had several options at that point; I could leave somewhere and just come back. But knowing myself, I would most likely go some place that involved alcohol and I wouldn’t make it back and I really needed my medication that night. I could go back home and come back, but again knowing myself, once I made it home I wouldn’t want to leave the house again. I could just stay and wait; but what would I do for an hour and a half? I decided the safest choice would be to just stay and wait in the car, I’m sure I could amuse myself for 90 minutes. I told myself it would be a test to my patience. How long could and sit with myself and just do nothing? So I sat. I have to admit that I cheated a little with the help of my friend, we texted back and forth during that time which helped. But for the most part, it was just me in the car with my thoughts. Actually, I didn’t even have to think that much. The cars and the people coming in and out of the parking lot were enough to keep me distracted. Right away a group of 6 people walked into the sushi restaurant. They sat near the window and I watched them intently. They didn’t really look like the sushi eating type. I watched as they pulled their chopsticks apart. I counted every edamame they picked up. I made a bet with myself that they would order tempura. I would have been able to settle that bet too if this woman didn’t park right in front of me. Oh well. No matter. I can still count the people that walk into the restaurant, which was quite a lot that night; most likely people wanting to get a head start on the Valentine’s weekend. But it was enough that it got the people working in the mexican taqueria next door curious enough to leave their store and walk past the sushi restaurant and peep in. And that’s how it went for 90 minutes; people walking in, people walking out; cars driving in, cars driving out. One woman who parked right next to me left her window wide open. She was gone for some time and there was quite a bit of junk in her car. Apparantly, she didn’t care much for them. The rest of the people in the parking lot were less interesting. I guess it is a little intimidating seeing someone just sitting in their car staring at everyone. I would be suspicious as to what their intentions were and I certainly would think twice before parking next to them. Or if I had to park next to them, I would lock and double check of all my belongings before leaving my car. I did take note that that seemed to be most people’s attitutde when they saw me sitting in the car.
“I’d rather be a hammer than a nail/ yes I would if I could/Away, I’d rather sail away/ Like a swan that’s here and gone/A man grows older every day/ It gives the world its saddest sound/its saddest sound.” -Simon and Garfunkel
I just woke up from a strange dream. I understand that dreams are just our mind’s way of making sense of the things we think about while we sleep. Of course dreams are strange. There are dreams that I do remember that I don’t write down because I can see the connection my mind was trying to make. But then the dreams that I do remember that don’t make sense are the ones I feel the need to record.
Today I woke up early and went shopping…just to make the shopping experience not so ordinary, I decided to see how long I can keep smiling. I arrived at my first stop, parked my car and with my tattoos blaring put on a huge smile and walked in. Now, I point out that I have tattoos because let’s face it people judge and probably for good reason. Historically, people with tattoos have not always been known to lead good clean lives nor are they known for being all that nice and approachble. I continued to browse through the store with that smile on my face, and I realized that just the mere act of smiling put me in a pretty good mood. Although, I did keep getting approached by sales associates asking me if “I’m finding everything okay.” They were most likely wondering, “What the hell is she smiling about?” I went to pay for my things and again the cashier asked if “I found everything okay.” I replied with an enthusiastic, “Yes, I did!You’re sale here is awesome! Thank you for asking!” and continued to smile. He smiled back. When he told me the total, I started to pull out my cash when I realized that I was about $1short and I couldn’t scrounge enough change fast enough. “Oops! Sorry, I guess I’ll have to use my card.” I said and tried to pull out my card quickly. “That’s ok.” he said and rang it up. “Wow! Thanks!” I said and quickly picked up my stuff and left. Now I know, it wasn’t much change that I actually did owe him, but the gesture was nice. At the next store, I walked in and immediately ran into two old women. I nodded to them and said a polite “good morning.” They returned it and went along their merry way. I continued my experiment and wore that smile all through the store. Now, either, it was just way too early in the morning and there wasn’t enough to do for the sales associate or it was just a coincidence that everywhere I was, there she was. I was getting the feeling I was being followed by her and not for a good reason. I looked her in the eye with the smile on my face. She didn’t smile back. Hmm. I couldn’t imagine what was going through her mind. I don’t really carry a purse, so it’s not like I would be able to steal anything effectively. Maybe the smile on my face was creeping her out but like a moth to a bright light, she just was just drawn to it. I looked her up and down. She’s young. I would put her between 17-19 years old. Just by their general nature, teenagers are suspicious of adults. I thought to put her mind to ease by asking her where the jeans are. It took her a few seconds; that’s when I realized not only is she young, but she’s new too. She has no idea what to do. I thanked her for all her help and left the store. Outside the store, I shrugged it off. Not everyone reacts to the smile the same way. I continued my smiling game at the next store. I was able to find some more tops I wanted to try on. In the dressing room, I noticed that one of the blouses had make-up all over it anda button was missing. I didn’t even get to try it on. When I went to make my purchases, I brought over the damaged blouse to the cashier and told her that they may not want to put it back out on the racks and I smiled. “Aww” she said, ” I am so sorry about that. Yeah. Sometimes people can get sloppy.” she said and she smiled. I decided on two more blouses at that store and she gave me a discount. “Cool! Thanks!” I said and left happy with my purchases. At the final store, I was actually looking for something specific. A pair of pants I had bought there previously. I found some that were similar but not the ones that I wanted. I have to give the award for excellent customer service to this girl because she went out of her way to try and provide me the pants that I was looking for, even calling a store in Nebula (??), California for them. She asked if I wanted to order them, and even after all that she did for me, I said no but with a smile on my face. She wrote down the sku# and told me to keep it and if I ever change my mind that I could always order it from the store. I agreed that was a good idea and left the store; smiling. As I got into my car and headed home, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I set a goal, albeit it a strange one and completed it; and I got some positive reactions too. There’s always a reason for the way people reacted to me like 1. it’s their job to provide excellent customer service. So maybe from their perspective, today was nothing new. Maybe more importantly was my perspective and how I was reacting to them. This is still all really brand new to me; interacting with people, being social, and not having these crazy/ violent mood swings. But as I drove away, I felt as if someone had given me a shot of saccharine. I overloaded on the ”sweet stuff” of roses and daises and rainbows and kittens. I sucked my cheeks in as I sucked on a cigarette; I guess those muscles haven’t been used that long in awhile. I turned on the radio and ”Rage Against the Machine” was playing. Perfect.
