Rakish.

September 28, 2011

Today my coworker Jennifer described me as Rakish. It made me happy. It was so much better than cute or adorable. It all started when I went to ask her about ordering some new T-shirts and I noticed the new guy in the office next to hers and couldn't help commenting about his good looks to her. Then of course I felt humbled due to the fact that there was now someone possibly better looking than me in the workplace. Jen was nice enough to assure me no one was "better" looking, just... different. The new guy would be best described as the handsome rugged manly type while I am the more boyish good-looks mischievous type.

Dinner?

Met met a woman recently who has a very hectic work schedule and so for convenience we've been e-mailing back and forth just to get to know a little about one another and after about three weeks I finally asked her if she wanted to get together for a picnic or something, she wasn't too hip on the idea so I suggested other options and they were really not that great and I had to admit to her I'm not so great at this whole dating thing. She was so sweet and just wrote back saying "Haha, you are so cute! We should go get some dinner :) "

The following was my response:

Dinner sounds great. But you should know I am very difficult. The last time I went to dinner was with my family and they asked me where I wanted to go and it made me so nervous to make a decision I ended up getting a really bad headache. Yeah, I know this might be funny, but its a true story. So if this dinner thing could be really dumbed down for me and I don't have to spend more than $10 then I could handle it and I think it could be fun. I'm not poor or a cheap-ass I just hate buying strangers a meal. Except for homeless people who I can tell are too insane to work. But I usually just buy them something on the dollar menu. Oh gosh, maybe I am a cheap-ass. Well, nobody is perfect. I'm generous in other ways, if you know what I'm saying ;) Not like a sexual thing more like I don't mind helping someone fix something or help move their furniture around. Stuff like that. So I guess if time is money I'm pretty generous with my money. So anyway, what places do you like to go for dinner?

Also, What is your name again?

-Brad

The Ferrari Shirt

A while ago I went to Costco to pick up my meds, and just FYI they really do have the cheapest meds, your doctor isn't just sending your there because 25% of their stock portfolio is linked to that particular corporation. I find myself in a line of a very diverse segment of the population and think to myself, "This would make a great commercial to help promote Costco as not just a place for white people with too many children who like to load them all up on an exorbitant amount of high fructose corn syrup and stock up and cheap jeans to give away during the Christmas season."

I find myself looking around at products near the pharmacy section and the one I decide to be the most interesting just happened to be the Trojan Pleasure Pack. If you're not familiar with this item, its a forty pack with four different types of condoms for various uses. I picked up the box and read about the different types and though, "Yeah, I like I'll ever be able to tell the difference." But I like the packaging and it was only twelve bucks so I thought hey why not, maybe this is me sending out a message to the universe that its about time I get busy with that favorite American pastime, yes, you guessed it; thinking about baseball. Then maybe the universe will deliver me someone who I can look at while thinking about baseball.

It was kind of like a if you build it they will come (no pun intended) type of thought process. Well, some time has passed by now and I'm thinking, "Dang, it's a good thing I didn't buy that Ferrari shirt.

An actual message I sent to a woman online.

You, me, bars, jackets, art


I think if I ever saw you, maybe in a bar, like a high-end one and not one of those hole in the wall places. Even though I like hole in the wall bars. I imagine you sitting in a booth type seating arrangement with three sharply dresses woman and two casual looking gay men. You would be dressed in all black and have a silver pendant that was just recently handed down to you by your grandmother pinned on the left side of your jacket. For some reason your grandmother didn't want your mother to have it and so it just went directly to you. So now there is this weird vibe every time you visit your parent's house. So there you are just sitting in the middle of this booth and everyone is telling really funny stories but you're not reacting much at all. You just nod your head, smile, and sip straight vodka from your glass.

I would be at the other end of the bar, at the bar. I'm wearing expensive looking black slacks which I found at a thrift store for ten dollars and a gold Armani button up that was made in 1988 and was given to be by an old girlfriend. I thought she spent a lot of money on it but as it turns out she just stole it from her uncle when she was house-sitting for him while he was on a cruise with his unusually close best friend Max. Yes, both her uncle and Max are unmarried and have no kids. I'm sure you get the idea, though no one in her family got it but her. Not sure why he was hiding it. Or maybe they were denying it. Either way, people should just be who they are and everyone else should respect it. Max was always really sweet to me and I actually feel bad about having his shirt. Although I'm sure he doesn't even notice its missing and I really like it. I'm also wearing a maroon smoking jacket with a pearl colored silk lining and its really comfortable so I wear it with anything even though it rarely goes with the rest of my clothing.

I'm drinking Coke with crushed ice out of a Lowball glass but act like its a cocktail. I look over at you and we make brief eye contact, then I walk over and rudely interrupt everyone only to introduce myself to you and then I say, "Hello, I would love for you to come chat with me at the bar for twenty-seven minutes and then come to my loft to view my newest art collection." At this point you just look at me with no expression and everyone else in the booth starts laughing and then make jokes about my clothing. So I walk away in shame and hit on a chunky redheaded woman in a feeble attempt to make you jealous. I know its not working yet I continue to flirt with this woman and tell her how beautiful she is. Then I start thinking, "Okay, this woman is really sweet and I feel like an asshole to be using her in this way." Then she starts talking about how long its been since she has had sex with anyone and looks at me with sad eyes. I then realize I'm in a very awkward situation and I'm not quite sure how to get out of it. I glance over of you every few minutes to see if you are noticing me. I get a feeling like you want to help me out but just can't stand the thought of standing next to someone with such a bad hair cut. So you send one of your gay friends over and he says "When are we going home honey?" At this point I'm so relieved I buy you are your friends a round of drinks and we all go and see my new art collection.



So anyway, that's just what came across my mind when I saw and read your profile. In reality this could happen except I don't go to nice bars and I don't even know if there are any in this town and I don't have a maroon smoking jacket. I do however have the other stuff. i.e. cheap pants, free Armani shirt, but it wasn't given to me the way my story explains it. So yes I have a new art collection. But its not really mine. It's just hanging in my place. I'm not sure if this sounds like I'm bragging or making fun of myself. If its bragging its probably just a defense mechanism at work due to my thoughts of lower than average self worth.

Okay, thanks for listening. Or reading actually. Hopefully I receive a response, otherwise I'll just be like, "dang, that girl is stuck up" even though I'm sure you're not but I have to say something to place the blame on someone else rather than myself. Because if I don't then I just think about all the bad decisions I have made which lead me to the sad and lonely existence I often live in. Although I really do think its mostly the economy to blame and not my poor work ethics or any of my social dysfunctions.

Alright, that was way too much about me. I would love to hear about you.

-Brad


Please write back, I'm so lonely and desperate for attention. Although people do call quite often. I'm just bored with them. Well not really them, its more about being bored of the same kind of activities I end up doing with these people. I guess I could suggest something new. Maybe you have some ideas. Let me know. :)

The checkout line

I was just standing in line at the grocery store when a nice young woman came up behind me with a very bored look on her face. Normally I wouldn't talk to anyone while in a line but I was in a great mood that day and I thought, eh, why not try and cheer her up so I start up a conversation about why all the gossip magazines are right where you have no time to read them and then I mentioned something about how much candy bars are now and how I remember when they were 35 cents. She seemed to be mildly entertained by my pointless observations but mostly she just smiled and nodded.

Then something totally unexpected happened. She asked when we could go get some dinner together. I was so taken back by the question and it made me so nervous that I just started talking and said the following:

I don't know, it seems like I would be doing all the talking. Sure, I
would have someone beautiful to look at but what if when I start
arguing with the waiter about how under cooked my Kobe steak is and
then to my surprise I happened to pick the worst day possible to argue
with him because unbeknownst to me it just so happened to be the day his
girlfriend ran off with his best friend and come to find out she's been
cheating on him for a year and a half and add to that he was going
to his best friend for advice on his relationship and in doing so helped
to break them up so his so called friend could have her for himself
and he is so upset and angry he decides to take all that emotion out via a fork in my eye.

So anyway, dinner sounds cool. Tell me your name again.

My Horoscope

Libra

I was looking for some guidance in my love life, but rather then doing it the right way, you know, meditation, a spiritual path, or something that takes a lot of effort. I just decided to look it up online.

So here it is and yes it is all plagiarized but I don't care. Go ahead and sue me, but there is a pretty long line for that, one of which is the Federal Government. Am I worried? Not really. Will I be guilty? Yes, by reason of insanity. So it actually sounds nice if you think about it. Hang out in a hospital all day in a robe and talk about my problems. Yeah, I'll make stuff up while compiling other crazy peoples stories for a novel I've so longed to write. Not to mention- three squares a day. Probably with paper plates and flimsy spoons. I'll just use my hands. I'm sure at this potential stage in my life I won't be trying to impress anyone. Well, I'm not exactly trying to do that now so I guess life won't change that much. Alright, here it is.

The current astral energy smoothes the way as far as your love life is concerned. If you have recently been through an embarrassing incident - something that sometimes happens between brand new lovers - that is making your hair curl to think about, then the influences around today should ease any troubled memories, and soon you will have forgotten all about it. Don't allow a small incident ruin a potentially wonderful relationship.

My reaction after reading this;

UH, nah... I don't think so, relationships are too much work.

A Facebook message from my Sis

LISA M BEULO July 19 at 4:49pm
Hey Brad, I hope you are doing well. You should go to my friends list and add Paul Branfield. He has a friend named Kaylee and she is way cute and LDS. I know you are seeing someone, but it doesn't hurt to have lots of girl friends. Anyway, he will write her and tell her about you and she will add you if you're interested. Call ya later.

BRAD METCALF July 19 at 5:01pm
Thanks for thinking of me but as far as dating goes, especially when it concerns a person who I may potentially have a sexual relationship with; I don't like the name Kaylee. Plus, LDS girls make me think bad thoughts such as Mortgages, working a difficult and/or boring job, kids eating Cheerios out of sandwich bags, and worst of all; an overwhelming sense of responsibility.

I wasn't Goth when Country wasn't cool...

...and no I didn't confuse the lyrics of the Barbara Mandrell song. I know I wasn't goth because about 13 years ago, which coincidentally was also the so called lucky number of the girl I was dating at the time. Who we will call Marissa, cause that was her name. Who by the way is fat now, looks just like her mother and is married to a marketing consultant. YAWN! I certainly dodged a bullet there. So anyway, I know for a fact that I wasn't Goth because we used to go to the dance club known for their acceptance of the "weird" or "misunderstood" type of people. Although, I have just realized this is the type of person I have become. You see, when you live in Utah and don't fit in with either the conservatives or the liberals you're kind of stuck in a very awkward position. Its a land of extremes and while I am a member of the major religious establishment, I'm really not one with the fold on a social level. Could it be my past and present experiences with drug use, perverted sense of humor, and my unwillingness to show compassion to the disenfranchised? Maybe, possibly, who knows and its not really the point. Oh, and yes I realize the many layers of hypocrisy which exist within me. So anyway, the point is is that Marissa and I are at the club and we start dancing, which I normally don't do as I have a total lack of grace or rhythm. But I decide to try and have a good time, so I do and lo and behold, I say unto thee, I'm having a great time! So great I just had to smile. At this point, she turns to me and say's "Brad, you're not supposed to smile while dancing to Gothic music, you look stupid. And this is how I know I'm not Goth.

Bradley Plierhands

Online Girl meets Bradley Plierhands

Hello Anastasia,

I think you are cute and really funny. Please take a moment to look at my custom furniture and let me know what you like and then you can buy something. Or I just might send something to you. Partly because I'm a sucker for women who are funny and because I get bored sometimes and just start creating things and when I'm passionately creating something I think of Edward Scissorhands and they way he effortlessly made the bushes into sculptures and then I start thinking how nice it would be to have tools on the end of my arms instead of hands. Such as large pliers or bolt cutters.

I mostly think this because I'm always cutting myself, but not in a goth or adolescent depression kind of cutting. More like it was an accident and metal fell on me. Then I think about how difficult it would be to be intimate with a woman without hands, but then I realize that I am never intimate with a woman anyway, so that aspect of having tool hands doesn't really apply.

The lack of intimacy with women isn't because I'm ugly or have a disease. I believe it has more to do with the fact that for some reason women really are attracted to guys with self confidence, of which I have none. I don't know why I'm lacking self confidence. There's really is no logical explanation for it. But I refuse to see a therapist about it. Mostly because I am certain that he or she will want me to do some sort of mental exercise and I would rather spend my time watching Curb your Enthusiasm or planting vegetables on state owned land. Which by the way, that land should just be mine. They don't even take care of it. There is garbage all over the place and the weeds never get cut down. Come summertime it becomes quite the fire hazard. So here I am the only one in town that gives a crap so I just go ahead and cut a hole in the fence, then clean and mow it all myself.

But actually now that I think about it I don't go to see a therapist because my health insurance doesn't cover mental health care, and there is no way I am spending any of my money to sit and chat with someone for 50 minutes. Seriously, the money I make is made with my own blood sweat and tears. Mostly sweat, okay, I admit it, mostly tears. I do cry more then the average male, almost like this steady stream of salt water down my face. Although I do subscribe to Dickens, so I "never be ashamed." Oh, and that thing about getting cut all the time, yeah, lots of blood too.

So anyway, let me know if you like my work. I would love to hear any opinions you have on it and maybe we can meet someday and do a project together.

Cheers,

Brad

This town is too small

Today I went downtown and no I'm not already downtown like you would think. I'm just outside of downtown. So I went to this coffee place that serves a really good smoothy and not one of those low budget ones with the ice cream and high fructose corn syrup. This is a pure smoothy made entirely out of frozen fruit. I order and stand to the side where I notice one the most attractive blondes I've seen in a long time. So I get my smoothy and sit down next to her. She's drinking an espresso and so I figure I have a limited window to get to know about her and maybe get a phone number.

So tell her my first name and strike up a conversation with her. I think it started with asking her where she gets her hair done or something fairly effeminate so she doesn't feel too threatened or think "oh great, another guy picking me up, why can't I enjoy my espresso in peace." About four minutes into the conversation. Yeah there was a clock behind her and I couldn't help but to keep track of how long this lasts. I'm sure it would have been better to actually listen but the length of conversations have always been fascinating to me. So four minutes in and she asks me what I like to do for fun. This is a question I really don't like because I don't like much of anything anyone else likes to do for fun. But I would rather not lie because if I do and we end up hanging out we might have to see a movie or go ice skating or do whatever people do for fun. So I just tell her what I've been doing for fun lately. So I say "Well, right now I spend most of my time inside I like to go online and post a call for artist on craigslists and then have people email me their work and then I turn everyone down.

It's a lot of fun because it makes me feel powerful to crush someones hopes." She laughs a little like in a way someone would if I was kidding and asks what the call for artists is all about. I tell her I have an art gallery where I display local artists. She asks which one, and I say "The Brad Metcalf Gallery." She responds "WHAT!, you're Brad Metcalf?" I am, I reply and for a second I get a significant ego boost because she's heard of me. But then she tells me her name and suddenly feel like a complete fool because I remember the name from an email and a body of work I saw that was really awful. But I really didn't care, it wasn't the first conversation I've had ending with the word "Asshole" and a mad stomp out of the room. I would have to admit this experience was overall a positive one. I could never date, let alone be friends with someone who's major influence and inspiration is linked to Andy Warhol.

*DISCLAIMER*
I, Brad Metcalf do not turn down anyone's artwork for the fun of it. Saying no to artists work is actually not fun at all and when I do I hope the artist will find a place to display their work and have a lot of success. I remember what it feels like to be turned down at galleries and would never want someone else to feel discouraged about moving forward with their work or the promotion of it. The majority of the time artwork is not accepted into the gallery because it doesn't reflect the current theme and scope of work in which the gallery is working to promote. Also, please remember this blog is for entertainment purposes only, and contains very little truth in each posting if any at all.

Cause opposites attract

If opposites attract, that means I'm going to have to find a woman that is not totally clueless. Does that even exist?

She says I should meet her Dad. (A satire)

Whenever a girl says she want's me to meet her father and that we would "love to hang out together" or "my dad would love you" or "you and my dad would really get along" for the next one and a half seconds I think the following;

"Oh boy this is going way too fast, what does she mean by this? does this mean she wants her dad and me to be pals and make sure we get along really well and then for me to feel comfortable enough to ask him if he want to be my dad too? As in my dad by law which means marriage and junk? Oh crap, now I'm going to have to get a real job and quit this artist stuff even though I make about three times as much doing this then I would if I got one of those real jobs. Does this mean she wants to have kids? I think this is going to involve sex and I just met this chick and I'm not one of those one night stand kind of guys.

Oh wait, I guess we would be married or whatever. But still I don't even know this girl, what if she is one of those people who kicks in their sleep. I hate that probably more then talking with food in your mouth. Which is weird because I do that and apologize while I'm doing it. Or maybe this is just her way of flirting and she is just looking for a rebounder because of a very serious relationship that just ended two weeks ago and now her BFF is telling her the time is right to get out and date other guys and the way to get over a guy is to get under a new one. But what if this is like love at first site and I'm the guy she has been dreaming about all her life, but then I go into self defeating thoughts like 'who would dream about me? I don't even have a six pack or a mustang. I thought chicks liked guys that were ripped and had sports cars.' Although I do have a mustang its just not done yet and I don't know if will ever be.

I mean it's in its 13 year of restoration and barely looks like a car but I guess I could get it going if I could be with this girl. She is cute. I don't know, there is so much wrong with that car. I think the engine is in crooked. But that's what you get when you hire some crack head in the ghetto of SLC to help you fix it up. Actually Salt Lake doesn't really have a ghetto but if you grow up in suburbia Utah and then see houses with less then 50% brick and cars parked outside over night, you think its the ghetto. Man, I can't believe that stupid car isn't done yet. I guess I have learned a lot, mostly to never restore a car ever again. So anyway, why is this girl even talking to me, I have no six pack and a old broken Ford. Maybe my mom was right, maybe I am a catch. I did over hear some lady in my neighborhood saying the same thing, or maybe it was to my face. I can't remember. Either way its not really the same as someone my own age, not related to me and not someone being nice as I walk down the road and get into one of those awkward 'how's your life conversations.' That was supposed to be 'how are you?' until they bring up the question of 'any special ladies.' And I know its my fault for not giving a short answer but why does that have to be a topic of conversation anyway. Well at least she didn't ask about the Mustang.

Now as all of this is going threw my head I realize I was just, for the last second and a half, staring right into space which also happened to be in the same line that meets up with her cleavage so I hurry and look up and say, "yeah, your dad sounds cool, it would be cool to meet him."

I am so adorable

Lately I've been getting a compliment from women that I'm not so sure about and when I say lately I mean my whole life. The compliment usually is prefaced in a nice way but basically its the same thing. It's the use of the word "adorable." Typically meaning I posses something that should be noted and described only with the use of that one word. For some reason that word just comes to a females mind when I am a topic of discussion.

But here is the thing, do you know what else is adorable, kittens. Yep, that's right, kittens are adorable, guess what else, babies, yeah, babies, also miniature tea sets, ponies, flowers that make their way up and threw cracks in city sidewalks, puppies, when a little kid first learns how to walk around and takes off their clothes and pees in the yard, old ladies who still refer to black people as Negro's, well actually that's kind of racist. Unless they are senile and then its just plain funny.

Also, sprinkles on top of cupcakes, those eight once glass bottles of Coke, your niece, you know the one you taught swear words to and when her parents hear her say them they wonder where she got it from and can't figure it out so they end up turning against each other and now they are fighting, which is good for you because now they are the center of all the family drama instead of you just because no one can let go of the time you drank an entire twelve pack of Pepsi at 11 o'clock at night and then decided for some reason to do a deep clean to the refrigerator, but you totally crashed from the caffeine and sugar high and forgot to put the mayonnaise back in until the next day and and then the entire family was sick from the potato salad made from it. But looking back on the whole experience is actually really funny and I think that's why everyone still talks about it and won't let it go. But mostly because it distracts them from there own problems.

Like that one family member we all have who just can't figure it out and even if you explained to them how the world works a hundred times a day they still wouldn't get it and just continue to waste there life trying to make it big in the world of Multi Level Marketing or some new grand invention that is actually a piece of crap but everyone it too afraid to let them know how much it sucks. I'm sure we all know someone like that right? So anyway, the moral to this story is that there isn't one but I'm sure all you ladies can think of a better word to use then adorable. Otherwise, I would just rather hear nothing. But hey, that's just me. I always look a gift horse in the mouth, I mean, what if I was living in Ancient Troy?

Painting Day

So, today my friend Jackie, one of my many platonic girl friends, who I have secretly had a crush on ever since we met that wondrous afternoon I was walking my dog in the park and she was doing the same with hers when that weird moment happens between dog owners as they are basically forced to watch these two creatures take in the scent of the most undesirable area that any mammal has to offer. I have not owned a dog in some time so you can get an idea of the amount of time I have been longing for Jackie.

It really was love at first sight, they way she would walk like some kind of dysfunctional robot with her feet pointed to the sides and almost like she was trying to kick her shoes off. So obviously she must have been emitting an enormous amount of pheromones for me to be able to see past all of her many god given flaws. But, hey I was just always the one who felt lucky to be around her. Jackie knew this and definitely had no problem taking advantage of the many monetizing traits which come from the frame and build of such masculinity which I encompass.

So she calls today and asks how I'm doing which is typically a precursor of a need she wants fulfilled but never a need in which I dream of doing. You know that kind of dreams where you wake up smiling and stuck to your sheets that just so happened to be the sheets you just washed the day before and now you have to do it all over again. I often wonder why that is. Its kind of like when about a month after you finally pay off your auto loan and now suddenly you have mechanic bills to worry about. Seriously, why can't they just make something that will last? And when are they going to start selling electric cars. Real electric cars, not the ones that burn gas and make electricity and then somehow are "environmentally friendly." You wanna know what an environmentally friendly car is? Otherwise known as a "Green Car." It's called a Bike, YEAH a freaking Bike.

Now as I answer Jackie's question about how I'm doing I can feel this energy in the way she breaths into the phone that she really doesn't give a crap so I stop in the middle of answering and ask what' s going on with her. She replies in a really sweet voice that nothing much is happening and she is also painting her living room and wondering if she bought pizza and beer if I would help. Normally this is not a bad deal and any real friend would gladly exchange an available afternoon for some quality time filled with painting, pizza, and beer. But Jackie is a sharp cookie. By the way, who thought of the phrase "Sharp cookie"? Cookies should never be sharp, and if they were would they be sharp in the same way cheddar is?

Okay, so the reason I say, "but Jackie is a sharp cookie" is because Jackie knows that I can't mix my high dosage of Prozac with alcohol and she also knows how much of love pizza but can't stand it the way she likes it, and she usually orders just one and knows we always argue about what to get on it and I'm just not in the mood for any confrontation right now. So I just tell her I'm on my way as soon as I finish watching an episode of Matlock. It's the one where he losses a case. Yeah, most people don't believe me about this but it really does exists. I actually really want to see her anyway. So I get there and we are about 13 minutes in to painting the ceiling and a little drip of paint falls on her face just above her lip and she wipes it off but there is still just a little bit on her and I all of the sudden think this could be my chance, I could help her get the paint off her face just like how people in movies help each other get food off there faces and end up in a passionate makeout session.

This could be it, this is the moment I have been waiting for all these years and who knew it could come in the form of a small drop of paint. So I let her know that she still has paint on her face and she goes to wipe it but I tell her its on the other side and then say no, the other side, okay up a little, then pretend to be annoyed and just get up close to her and wipe it up myself but of course by this point in time the build up of the moment have been so great that my nervousness ruins the whole plan and makes it seem less romantic and more like I'm her overweight Italian aunt who wipes the whatevers off all the kids faces.

So at this point I'm thinking damn, no good pizza, nothing good to drink, and not even a makeout session is going to happen. But at least I'm out of the house so I'm not more or less forced to watch my parents cuddle up to a movie in the basement which I called dibs on three days prior. Man, we need a sign up sheet for that part of the house or something.

The Letter

Dear Becky,

I don't know if you got the letter I hand wrote, cried on, lightly dusted with my cologne (the one you said you wanted to smell for ever and ever), folded tightly, and squeezed into your bedroom through the window that is painted open approximately a quarter of an inch that you are constantly trying to seal up with old stockings and electrical tape. So I thought I would follow up with an email just to make sure you know what is on my mind. I want you to know that I'm really upset you ditched me in the middle of our date.

I know I'm not the most good looking, caring, richest, most cleaver, best smelling, well dressed, talented, charming, successful in anyway, spiritual, kind, generous, playful, mature, sexy, tall, strong, well groomed, and gracious man in town. But I think I deserve better then to be treated like that. If you only knew how I felt on the inside right now, you would break down and cry. Possibly on your little sisters bed. You know, the sister with like a thousand stuffed animals and that tired poster of Joey Fatone right above the headboard. You would probably end up in the fetal position and everytime a tear hit the her mauve colored sheets you would kick one of the animals in the groin region, sending it flying into the pink and white shag carpet she begged and begged your father for until he bought it just so he wouldn't have to listen to her whine about it anymore, even though at that time your family was on a limited budget and he was collecting unemployment but was so ashamed by the loss of his job and possibly his career due to industry changes every day he would just go for a really long breakfast at Dee's Family Restaurant but only order coffee which normally waitresses can't stand but this one imparticular had an attraction for men who looked depressed and wore, as she put it "A mustache like a movie star."

No one at that diner knew what she meant by that and some of her co-workers claimed she had one of the most extensive collections of Classic movies ever heard of. Almost to the point where she could put MGM's vault to shame. But I'm sure that was just a rumor. So there your father was sulking in his own self pitty and staring at reflections in the rich black coffee. He liked it black, no cream, but lots of sugar and it was always a habit for him to order it and then immediately after in a quiet and soft voice, he would say to himself "Yeah, just like I like my women" but it was always loud enough that everyone including any table adjacent to him would hear. Your family dinners out must have been embarrassing and or uncomfortable at times I'm sure. Especially since everyone in that small of a town knew he was a closet racist and some how there was always the educated and well dressed black family sitting in a booth nearby and he never noticed until it was too late.

But It wasn't his fault really, he just developed a distaste for black people from the experiences he went through. Or maybe it was his fault. It all started with him refusing to forgive Jimmy. Yes Jimmy, a good man, a decent and kind man, a black man. I mean, sure he could have forgiven Jimmy, but he just wouldn't let it go and now for some reason he thinks the color of his skin is to blame. See, Jimmy and your father were best friends all through life up until their senior year of High School. Oh, those were the good ol' days, when gas was cheap, a new Mustang was less then four grand, dippidy doo hair gel and madras shirts were in style, teens were listening to The 5th Dimension and the one thing that never goes out of style and the one thing we should all blame was all the rage, Hormones. That's right, hormones. That's what we should blame. I'm sure you don't want to hear the story again but in my opinion, your father is better off without her. Last time I saw Jimmy he was living in a Red Roof Motel and smoking Parliament Lights. Although I can't blame him, who doesn't like a recessed filter?

So, I guess what I'm trying to tell you is that I miss you and it hurts because you're the only one who made me feel alive and who could also replace my unhealthy addiction to an extensive harpsichord collection. Well, I suppose its just more expensive then it is unhealthy, I mean its not only the pieces themselves but also the enormous storage costs involved. Plus, no one can even believe how many cases of Pledge I go through in a year. Please just call, I want to talk.

With all my Love,

Brad

The Girl with an Orange Sweater

I saw a girl today with an orange sweater and I went up to her and said "hey how's it going, I like your sweater. My garage door is same color orange, just like pumpkins, I just thought you might find that interesting what a crazy coincidence right?" So she looks at me with a polite smile and backs away slowly, then abruptly gets in her car and speeds away. So now I'm standing there feeling like a total idiot and as I walk away my inner dialog says to me;

Wow, that's a really boring thing to say. Man, my game really needs some work. I mean, was that supposed to be some kind of pick up line? Totally lame. Well, my door really is orange but who cares?! What is she going to be like "OH WOW, it's a sign! I must get to know this guy" I don't know, maybe a chubby girl at church will pick up on me and we'll date for a while. Most of the time I will be scheming of ways to get her to loose a few so I will feel like I'm some sort of success in life just because the person I'm dating is "hot." Whatever that means. I really should be thinking of ways to enhance "inner beauty" but who knows what that really is. Plus, you can't put that on the cover of a magazine. So to the rest of the world and from an economic standpoint, its pretty much useless. So where do I go from here? I'm not sure. Maybe I'll meet some ladies in a bikram yoga class but then I'll probably be so covered in sweat I'll be too self conscious to even open my mouth to say hello to anyone. I suppose I should just go to bed, cuddle up to the body pillow and hopefully drift away in 20 minutes from the Tylenol PM my mother packs in my medication tray.