I was bored, I was online, looking at movies on Amazon.com that have a gay theme in them. Doing shit like this makes me feel ill as I realize it’s a desperate attempt to connect to a culture that I refuse to allow in. Anyway, I stumble across Rules of Attraction , a movie about three different college students who all like other people and fuck and do drugs and don’t go to class. My kind of crowd. I recall that it’s also a book and my mind instantly shifts to reading. I have three books sitting in my room which I want to read. Two about Led Zeppelin, one is the DC comics encyclopedia. Instead whenever I get the literature craving I bust out old issues of Uncanny X-Men. I decide, what the fuck, I may as well add one more book to the list. I jump in my car and immediately head for Borders. I drive by my high school and start daydreaming about stuff. I imagine myself running into Jenny Howell, prom queen who was genuinely nice and really pretty. She is with Chris Weber, basketball player, seemed quiet to me, and wore a pink shirt sometimes. They see me at Borders, shuffling through a row of books like I know something about current literature, and they begin to whisper? “Is that Adam Moschell” “He looks really good” “I heard he was gay” “no way, are you serious” “Chris, you should ask him out” “No, I’d be too embarrassed, I don’t even know him really”. I pull into the actual lot at Borders cursing myself for being so stupid. I hate when I have blatantly ridiculous daydreams. I walk into the store and feel disgustingly trendy. The coffee beans boil, the people wear black turtle necks and I am just waiting to see the first fag. I turn my head, found one. I locate my book, it’s $13.00 for paperback. I don’t know if I want to pay that much. Maybe they have it at Half-Price Books? I get in my car and cruise further south, I am running out of gas. I have like, a few fumes to run on. I hope I make it. I am a cheap bastard. Why don’t I just fill my tank or pay full price for a book? Jerk.


              Half-Priced Books. The first thing I see is a fat girl with pink stretch pants on, flower print fat girl shirt and knotted blonde dirty hair. She has a bugger in her nose, it’s gross. I hate kids. Especially dirty ones. Her brother is next to her. I think he has polio. Didn’t they cure that? What the fuck is wrong with this kid? Maybe it’s a deformity. There are people everywhere, and I realize Half-Priced Books is having a sale. I make my way to the back of the store, fiction section. They don’t have the book. What a fucking waste of time. I move to their movie section, they don’t have it on DVD either. Lame. I bail, it was beginning to smell of a white trash, garage sales and a big fart. That’s basically what Half-Price Books is though. I buy gas with my new credit card. Probably a mistake, but hey I can avoid getting fucked by it for a few months right? I pull out and go left, the mall is close by, Best Buy. Fuck it. I go to Best Buy and look for the movie on DVD. As I walk in I think about how I applied there recently. I can’t believe they hired some of those fuck faces there over me. Tragic. Anyway, they don’t have it in their regular DVD section. I am pissed. What a waste of my time. I could have been sleeping, or looking at internet porn or watching Biography of Rob Lowe (which I did earlier, truth be told). I walk to the front of the store, I see a rack that has random movies in it. What are the chances. I circle around, and Waka Bamm! There it is. I move to check out, Best Buy credit card swipes, I am out the door. I decide I still want the book, and it’s nice out, so I trek across the entire parking lot, cross a little road and head through the mall parking lot. There’s a book store in the mall which always baffles me. Who buys a book at the mall?


             I walk towards the door of the shopping center and see my reflection. Ugh, my hair is atrocious. Whatever style I had committed suicide or something cause it was gone. I did a quick fix while starring at my reflection and the door flew open in my face. Out came some overweight thirteen year old boy in a football jersey. God, I would be mad at his rudeness but I have faith he’ll have a heart attack and die by the time he’s 20, lard ass. I hate kids. I move through Van Maur or whatever it’s called and enter into the mall area. It’s crowded, but duh, it’s a Saturday. I see these two middle school girls standing their in Keds and jean jackets. What is this 1993? I fix my hair though, having a complex about always looking presentable. I’m tempted to ask the girls if I look like a homosexual, just to freak them out and make sure I don’t, though I am sure I do. It’s a weird thought, I let it go. I mall walk frivolously, weaving in and out of strollers, slow moving old women and ghetto thugs. Why aren’t people more normal? I reach the bookstore, I find my book immediately. Still $13.00. Oh well, I contemplate looking at the recent issue of Playgirl that they have, but no. I have internet porn for free. I get in line and the cash register guy is some played out old hippie. He looks like the boring kind that doesn’t do drugs though. He starts talking about the book and the author, I just smile and count my money. For some reason I want him to think I am intelligent so I mention the name of another book by an author who I believe to be similar. He says he’s read it and loves it. He says bye and I leave. Was he flirting? I think he called me “Hun” as I was leaving. barf. I should send the middle school girls to him. They can be fuck ups together.


               I walk back to my car and drive home, making all the lights and having my ego build up for some reason because of it. Oh well. I enjoy the moment. I make it home and can’t decide to watch the movie or read the book first. I start the book, but I don’t get to finish. My Mom and Dad return from home. It is their 25th anniversary and Mom got a new ring. Dad gets a putter, a Cadillac hat and a wind breaker. Lovely. They announce that we are going out to dinner, so I grab my wallet and keys and we’re off. At the restaurant we have to wait an estimated 50 minutes. I hate this shit. Can’t we go somewhere else? On top of that, the waiting area is of course crowded, and I don’t feel like conversing with my family right now. I stand on the left end so I can’t hear their conversation thanks to my deaf ear. I see kids everywhere. I hate kids. Take them home and make them Easy Mac, don’t bring them to a nice restaurant. Then I see a little girl with pig tails and big pink sunglasses on. She looks kind of Asian. She’s no more then 3, but she reminds me of Jubilee from the X-Men. I’d chill with this kid. We finally find a waiting area that has chairs and we sit. I immediately do a scan and notice a hot bar tender. He’s chatty, hand motions, I think he’s gay. I try to make eye contact, but I fail. Our table is called.


               We sit down and I order a beer, though I’d really rather have a joint or at least something a little stronger like a screw driver. I can’t decide what to order, and our waiter is this crazy Mexican guy who waited on us last time we ate at this place. I decide for the fish. Mom says it’s good. I look over and notice that Jubilee and her three parents, two women and a man, are sitting across from us. One of them appears to be on crack, my mom says she thinks the woman is getting a nose bleed. I try to look, but I hate to be obvious. I don’t see what’s going on. My food comes, I am starved, but it’s too greasy. shit. I should have got what my sister ordered, pulled pork. We finish eating and leave, my parents talk about what they want to do with their night. I say I am reading.


          As I dive into the book I realize I love the style. It’s free flowing and reminds me of things I used to write. It has a sharp tongue too. I miss writing and I wonder why I have stopped. Well, not stopped, but really slowed down. I guess I feel like I don’t have anything original to say right now. I feel like I have run out of metaphors. Everything I write ends up about me being gay anyway, and that’s such old news I think Moses has a copy of the original memo. I decide to stop whining about something I could change and I get online. I look at away messages. It’s a Saturday night and I am reading a book and checking away messages. Pathetic. I see that Beth is in Indy, so I sign off and call her. She says she is just watching TV at Sharon’s, Cheaters to be precise, and we small talk about my being unemployed and her being stressed about teachers smashing work in before Spring Break. I feel lost cause it’s almost Spring Break for her. I still haven’t done anything with myself. I have tried though. I sulk about being a graduate. I say goodbye to Beth and hang up and I wonder why none of my friends have come to visit me in Indy. Well, my grad party they did. I’ve been there a lot. I decide I am being pretentious. I take a shower, it feels really good, but I just think about the book, I think about my bitching. I should just get over myself. I should find myself. I should write.

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