Solar Flare

As the last day of Summer has shined it's last ray of light, I'm sitting instead of working at a half empty steakhouse thinking of the ups and downs this summer has afforded me.

I learned a lot about perseverance this summer, about how to put aside the snickers and sneers from others and continue to press on to achieve goals. I learned to not strive for excellence from myself, but to expect it. I graduated college this summer, I received a diploma (a shitty fucking diploma btw, but more on that later) that signifies my education, but I left behind a place and a people that made me feel important beyond unbelievable imaginations. I learned that sometimes being single is the goddamn only way to be, by witnessing the terrible things relationships do to the people around me (My brother, my former boss) I learn that sometimes sleeping with best friends cannot be casual, no matter how much you try to convince yourself it meant nothing.

I started a new job, well, really same job different menu. I had the worst night I have ever had as a server at this new job, but I also realized how being consistently funny and charming might be the greatest currency a man can possess. My new job also showed me how sticking with something even when it seems pointless and terrible sometimes pays off.

I spent more time alone in my home this summer than any other four month stretch I can remember, thus leading to even more introspection, I've spent more nights up crying, worrying, and/or making my heart race with the anticpation and excitment I have for my future in entertainment than I did actually getting good rest.

This summer gave us one of the best performances by an actor ever (Heath), it exposed a new DJ for all of us to get boners over (Girl Talk) (and yes I know he's been doing this shit for years) The summer gave me a new found respect for a band I didn't think could get any better, but did with their new album (Staind) We also found out what happens when a band tries to hard (Coldplay) This summer showed us that this November is going to be the most dirty, rotten election in years, and damn if that doesn't get me excited :)

I put my dog down this summer, My two best friends were hundreds of miles away from me for 95 percent of the summer, I lost a few friends that live within a mile, and no matter how many friends you lose, and trust me, I've lost plenty, each one still hurts. My parents and family were on vacations without me three times this summer, and I took a few of my own without them as well, and yes, visiting Rider last week counts as one.

I could sit here and list a million other monumental things, like discovering that beer should NEVER look yellow ever, and it can be drank with class (Sorry Mom), but like dreams and sex stories, it's all boring if you aren't involved. I look ahead to the fall and I see myself inching slowly closer to next step. I see myself losing one of my most unconventional best friends to the Marines, another to a "real" job, and even more to grad school and such.

Summer is over. Fall is here.

I get up from my perch near the service bar and I start to clean off table 18, the old couple that ate there previously left little mess, so I don't even bother to wait for the bus boy to clean it off. I think about how just three months ago I was scarred shitless of the new restaurant I was working at, and how I was never comfortable or happy there. Now I have some of the best shifts in the house, and I feel that not only do I sometimes have fun at work, people enjoy working with me as well.

Sometimes it only takes a summer for things to figure themselves out.

Welcome to the Rock

Death is a scary thing.

We all think about death from time to time, well at least I know it crosses my mind. Whether it be after we have a near miss car accident on a highway, if it's right before we get on a roller coaster that is creaking a little too much for our liking, or even right as we are taking off in an airplane going on vacation or what not. Death is the elephant in the room for everyone, young or old.

It's how we deal with Death that defines who we are. Some of us sit around writing the tragedies of our lives while ignoring how to live them. Some of us take every opportunity to cheat death, whether it be sky diving, mountain climbing, those crazies on Jackass sticking leeches up their asses. There are even those that take life for granted, almost accepting death as some sort of reward, it could be those that overdose, those that drink and drive when utterly wasted, or those that drink themselves asleep forever.

Today we are putting our family's dog, Rocky, to sleep. I'd be lying if I said I was overly upset, ever since Rocky ate my 1996 All-star baseball cap signed by LL Cool J we've been on bad terms, but I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't going to feel anguish after we put him down. It's a strange things pets do to us really. Pets, especially dogs, are the biggest pain in the ass purchases you can make. They take months if not years to train, you have to feed them at least twice a day, clean up after their shit, hair, mess, etc. Outside of a child, pets are the neediest things you can buy. Yet, my home is going to feel like it is missing something in Rocky's absence.

My brother, the one whose whore ex recently left him, considered Rocky as another brother. As weird as it was, he'd talk to the dog, or just pet him, the reassurance that no matter what, Rocky needed my brother's affection, he relied on my brother, and that made my brother feel more complete. I cannot imagine what his loss will do to my brother, how my brother deals with this will really shine a light on who he really is, and I'd by lying if I said I wasn't a little curious to see how he deals.

I'm willing to bet that you won't be able to walk into this house and notice something incomplete about it the next few days. I'm sure there will be some snappiness around the house, a few teary eyes, but over the next few weeks we will move on, and it will all be back to normal. Rocky won't be around here anymore, but he will have left us with a lot memories.

I think that's the true test of how one deals with death. How he or she deals with the dead loved one's memories. Do you remember all the great times and all the fun things the person left you, or do you just remember how you felt the day they left the world?

Because really aren't memories the only things anyone can leave for us? Sure, they can leave jewelry and pictures, but those pictures are really empty without the memories that back them.

Safe Place

I have a terrible job. Okay, it isn't THAT fucking bad, I just wait tables, and I choose to, so this isn't me complaining, I'm just stating how terrible waiting tables can be, shitty costumers, bad tips, asshole-ish demands, bad managers and lazy fucking co workers are all reasons to never want to wear an apron and say "how would you like your steak cooked?" But tonight I actually had a moment that made me love my job.

It was about 8:30 and the restaurant was slowing down, less consistent costumers, less orders going through the POSy machine into the kitchen etc. I got sat a table of three around this time, and at first I wasn't happy, only because I was hoping to be cut and sent home, but never-the-less I had a table, hey at least I'll have an opportunity to make some money.

I approach the table and I see a mother a father and a young daughter, she can't be a day over 9, but she is dressed nicely, in a long black dress, with make-up on her face.

"My name is Mike, welcome to the steakhouse, how is everyone doing tonight"

The father looks up at me and has a nice smile on his face, he looks like fun.

"I'm doing good, how are you doing?"

"I'm doing good sir," I say to him and I look over at the young girl, "special occasion tonight?"

"Me and my daughter are out on a date tonight Mike, although my wife decided to come as a third wheel," the father says to me and laughs.

I assure them that I am going to take good care of them, and I take their order. The father orders a gin and tonic because his daughter asked him not drink a beer tonight.

Their food comes out quickly and they eat, I go back to check on them and the daughter is at the bathroom, so the father takes the time to talk to me.

"Me and my daughter are on a 'date' tonight because all three of her brothers are at a 'boy's only' sleepover party, and she doesn't get a lot of daddy alone time."

"That's so nice!"

"Before we came out I went to grab a few things and I told her I was going, so she says to me that she is going to get ready for dinner. I come back from the store and she has on this black dress, and I look at her and she's got on this eye liner and lipstick! It was like a knife in my heart because although I thought it was so cute that my daughter was so excited to go out, I know what's coming next, and I know i wont be on any of those kind of dates!"

Hearing all this broke my heart man, it was warming to see such tender care for a child. When you wait on people you see people at their best and at their worse. Eating makes people vulnerable, and they let their guard down when they do it. In a world where we read stories about people leaving their kids in trash cans and child abuse, and fucking child porn, it was really refreshing to see parents that really loved their child. It made me think of the times I would spend playing board games with my mom before i had school or she had work, or when I took my Dad to a comedy show last year and he texted me that he had a good time and said he loved me. I saved the text message, and all those memories because people aren't going to be around forever, and when they're gone it's all we're gonna have.

The father asks for the check, he compliments me galore, which i appreciate almost as much as the 30 percent tip they leave on the bill, I thank them and I tell the daughter to enjoy the rest of her date.

I only got to know these people for about 45 minutes, but for those 45 minutes, I didn't feel like I was waiting tables, and for that I am forever grateful.

Till death do us part...

I don't know, maybe it's me, maybe I'm the only one that thinks like this. Maybe I'm the asshole.

Let me explain.

I have very few friends.

Okay, some of you that know me well are probably thinking, "you, only a few friends? PLEASE." Okay, it's true, there are more people that know me and hang out with me than that know you, and I know many people. But, when it comes to real friends, people that i truly care about, and truly care for me, I have a few. Sure, I'll party with tons of people, I'll make an amazing drink with my own booze for anyone that works into my apartment, or at least when i lived in one, but that doesn't make that person someone i care about, that just makes them someone I've made a drink for. I'm talking about people that will do anything for me, anything at all, no matter what lenghts they have to go to to do it.

These are the people I expect more from.

To steal a line from one of my best friends, I expect greatness from my real friends. I expect them to be as great as possible when it deals with things that involve the both of us, and especially things that involve themselves. I don't expect perfection, no one is perfect, not even myself, I expect greatness. Greatness can be described as many things. Greatness is going to a bar or a club that you fucking hate with someone who really wants to go just because they want to. Greatness is driving two hours and sacrificing pay and work time just to spend 5 hours with a person. Greatness is driving an hour and a half to pick up your friend after he gets kicked out of his house, only to have to drive another hour and a half back. Greatness is finding out that your friend is upset that someone wished all her friends a happy birthday, but not her, and you going out of your way and making sure that someone that made your fried upset wishes that person a happy B-Day but never taking any credit for it. Greatness is not seeing someone for months or even years, and being able to pick right back up where you left off the second you see them again.

These things define what makes a friend great.

These are the attributes I look for in a real friend that truly gives a double-fuck about me.

Being sick is no excuse to abandon greatness, anything less than death bed warrants no pardon.

Maybe I'm coming off too snotty, but it's what I give that makes me want in return. Ask any of the people I've come into contact with that I still talk to, ask any one of them that considers me a good friend, I practice what I preach to umpteenth degree. I sacrifice for my friends, I care about my friends and I live and die with their struggles.

Being a great friend means only wanting one thing in return for all the sacrifices and hard work and late nights spent listening and talking and helping.

The only thing a great friend wants in return is simple.

Greatness.

Tisbury Lane

It's 10 o'clock after the last class of my college career and I'm laying in the grass behind the track next to one of the sexiest girls I've ever had the opportunity to be in company with, and instead of thinking about all the wonderful things I'm about to get myself into, all I can think about is how much I'm going to miss everything.

I see a shooting star cross over the sky, my 4th so far that night.

"It's been four years man, you really can get connected to a place after only a short time," I half whisper.

"Yeah, that's the goddamn truth," she says to me, her statement said with a half sigh half exhale that lets me know she agrees, but really isn't in the mood for a deep conversation.

I catch the hint and lean over and give her a long hard kiss. I've always had the problem of needing something going on at all times. It isn't enough for me to just say goodbye to school and drive away, I need to make-out on its fields one last time, I need to do something big, even if it is only me and one other, I need to give everything a proper send off, and tonight is no different.

Even in the embrace of someone else I still can't get my mind off all the amazing things that have happened to me over my time at college. I won't sit here and list them all, because memories are like sex stories and dreams, if you aren't in them, then who gives a shit? I think of all the good parties, good people, good shows and the good things I've done at school. I think of the terrible things that have happened, the people that have died, the people I've disappointed (see my parents 100x). I didn't have the cookie cutter college experience, but what were the odds of that happening anyway?

My mind wonders to the future, and what it holds for me. I do have a plan, and I will stick to it until it is fulfilled. I know where I want to go, and what i want to do. The future is bright for me, and after another shooting star goes across the sky (number 6 of the night, no I'm not making that up) I stop thinking about anything and I do what I did for the last four years of my life, I just live in the moment. A beautiful girl, a great night with an amazing sky, and all of the world's ambitions at my finger tips, what more could anyone ask for?

A lean in for one more kiss before we pack up shop and head home. It's a good one, exactly the way to end the night.

I drop her off and I start my ride back to my house. I drive by the school's neon red sign one more time before getting on the highway to take the drive back to town. I get a little choked up, but the "Girl Talk" coming from my radio stops me from getting upset.

The last four years were fucking amazing. Tonight was amazing. The proper send off for sure.

Fuck the glam rock...

It's a Sunday afternoon, and I can think of a million places I'd rather be then at work, but at work I am.

Four or five of us are sitting at the bar, trying to get a few more seconds of relaxation before the horde of costumers looking for their "Mid Well Fillets", and unlimited refills on lemon water come barreling through the double doors at the front of the Restaurant.

It's about 1:55, and we open at 2:00, but no one really wants to move or talk, just sit and relax. No one, except Ted, Ted wants human contact, and he wants to talk. Quick back story about Ted, Ted was in a boy band in high school, Ted thinks he can sing, and thinks he looks good, real good. He isn't a bragger per se, he just lives in his own small world, and thinks everything he cares about we all care about. He is like the little puppy that constantly wants to play fetch, even after hours of catching a Frisbee, he can't read a situation, and can never tell when someone isn't interested in what he is talking about.

Now that the wikipedi biography on Ted is out there, you know what we are dealing with. Ted comes up to us sitting at the bar relaxing and he immediately shakes hands with everyone. The most awkward, tilted terrible hand shake next to a lip wrist you can get. I must have hit the daily Ted jackpot, because he sits right next to me.

"Whats up Mike, how you doing today?"

"I'm good Ted, just relaxing before the onslaught."

"I hear that Mike."

(I mumble something incoherent, but just enough to show I've heard what he said, I'm hoping this means it's all over)

"I see you went with the slick back look with your hair there Mike."

Looks like I wasn't lucky enough

"Ya know Ted, I just kind of did it real quick because I was running late."

"No, I mean I see what you did, but you should try spiking your hair like I do, because my hair looks good."

(beat)

"I gotta go make sure my section's ready Ted."

I get up and walk towards my tables, and all I can wonder is who I pissed off to deserve to win the Ted jackpot...

Magic Hours

My brother's girlfriend broke up with him last week.

She told my brother that she wasn't happy with him, and that my parents were too much of a hassle for her. Said my brother was abusive, and was too controlling. Abusive? Please, that bitch doesn't know abusive. She's got a fucking over controlling babying fucking mother, and a dumb fucking Pot head father, she doesn't know SHIT about being abused.

In typical Washington Township fashion, everyone knew before my brother did. She told her mother, her father, her brother, all her friends, before she told my brother.

She told him she was going to wait till my parents got back from vacation to break up with him, because they had plans and she felt bad breaking.

She felt bad breaking plans, she felt bad breaking plans that my brother would have to shell out money for, she felt bad breaking plans that my grandmother was going to cook for them.

She felt bad breaking plans, but didn't feel bad breaking my brother's fucking heart.

My parents gave my brother a whole fuckton of shit about him dating this girl. She wasn't the most exciting person in the world, hell he took her to see Aaron Lewis' solo and acoustic show, and she sat there emotionless. I wasn't fond of her, but I kept my mouth shut, because i knew how hard my brother felt about her. And my parents aren't making it any easier on him, but I understand they are doing what they feel is right for him, and I know it hurts them just as much as it hurts me to see him upset, but when he tells me that it hurts when they bring it up, I don't know what to do.

I did write a story about this four years ago when they were only kind of dating, and she pulled a stunt similar to this. He went back with her, and i let it go then, but I'm telling you, if I ever see this walking piece of cunt on the street, it is going to take every ounce of self will in my body not to hit her, and I have never hit a girl in my life.

But mark my words, if she is ever at a party, and I happen to be there, and she happens to be enjoying homemade jungle juice, I'll be sure to give it my special touch. That's for sure.


As far as my brother goes, I think he is going to be okay, but he sure as shit isn't okay now. He talks to me because I'm his older brother, but it isn't easy. Hearing him tell me that he didn't think it would be this hard, absolutely destroys me. I can't stand it. Seeing him trying to hold back tears is the most painful thing I've ever witnessed, and it's bad.

I tell him whatever i can to try and make him see that there is light. I tell him he has to learn from this, and that he has to apply what ever went wrong in this relationship to the next one. I tell him that although its shitty now, it's going to get better, because as we all know, it does. He tells me he thinks about her a lot, and i tell him it's normal, because it is. I tell him to listen to the music he loves. I tell him to get lost in music because it's what i did. I also tell him that till the end of time, he will compare every girl to this one. It was his first girlfriend, his first young love, it's only human for him to bleed from the inside.

I know this post is shit, and its not very eloquent, but sometimes things like this aren't polished. The look on my brother's face isn't polished, its stripped, raw, and fucking real. His emotions, and my rage, aren't sugar coated, they are sour, they are honest.