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Yours Truly
Playing beer pong with my program directorI’ve been hyping up my roster in Texas on this blog for the past few entries. I’m going to have a sick 5-man rotation. I’m going to fucking cruise through the summer. I’m going to murder the Texas league.
Problem was, I only had 5 days.
With a few of the kids in my program, I finished 60+ beers, a box of wine and some vodka in epic fashion after the poster presentation. I once again ruled in beer pong. But this time I was partnered with my program director. My fucking program director. She’s got 3 kids, is at least 45 (which makes her older than my mother) and knows we aren’t of age. An equivalent would be if your principal crashed a house party and started drinking with his students.
The kicker?
She was on muscle relaxants. And she still drank. She got completely wasted.
We debated who should hook up with her.
As per usual, I stupidly volunteered.
I was wasted. I once again was running the table in beer pong, I killed the box of wine with S&M and for my “casual” drink, I had vodka mixed with more wine.
Drinking...
...with the program director. I woke up naked the next day next to a 45 year old mother of three in my twin-sized dorm bed.
That’s how this story should’ve ended, but everyone has consciences, so everyone (including yours truly) convinced me not to do it. So I didn’t end up hooking up with a 45 year old mother of three.
Instead, I assume I drunkenly stumbled into my cold bed and passed out. I was super loser wasted. I remember most of the night (S&M doesn’t remember a huge part of it), but it’s easily the drunkest I’ve gotten in Texas.
I woke up the next day at 4pm. 4 days left in Texas to nail my rotation down.
In a strange twist of karma, I got sick. Maybe because I manually stopped my streak by passing up free sex (albeit, with a 45 year old mother of three who’s also my program director). When baseball players hit a streak, they stick to the same routine everyday (they’re known to not even wash their jerseys) to keep themselves in the zone. Maybe by bucking my regular game plan (albeit, with a 45 year old mother of
My Program Director
Schmoozing with the young'uns three), I had jinxed my streak. Maybe all my good luck got to my head and I thought I could actually pick and choose girls (albeit, I refused sex with a 45 year old mother of three) and karma/God/The Emperor decided to punish me.
Most likely, it’s the result of 4-5 beer pong games a night for over 14 days in a row culminating in a wine, vodka and beer drinking frenzy mixed in with bad sleep (the beds in the dorms suck) and stressful working (I was afraid I wouldn’t finish my project).
Either way, my throat felt tighter than a , my head felt like it was getting drilled open and my body temperature managed to surpass the scorching Texan heat.
So even though I had a sick (no pun intended) rotation lined up with 4 days to go, nothing happened. I tried coaxing both of the girls out by phone, but when I couldn’t even coax myself to get out of bed to buy some Advil, there was no way I was going on a date. But the girls made it easy by reverting
The bright lights of NYC
And this isn't even the city...it's Queens. to their Asian genes and being complete flakes so officially I can still say I tried my hardest despite being bedridden.
By Thursday it got a lot better, but I was flying through a sea of smog, lights and curses into New York City. How about that for a transition sentence, bitch!
New York City was fun. I was there for just under a week which is the ideal time. Everyone wants to meet you and you haven’t gotten bored yet, your parents are still doting on you and aren’t annoyed with you yet and its just enough time to finish up random errands you invariably have to do when you return to your home base.
I won’t bore you with all the random things I did and people I met. Instead, I will tell you about three girls I met in New York.
The first girl is a Japanese girl from my high school. We’ll call her L-Kat. Seems innocent enough.
Except this is the first time I’ve talked to her. Actually the second time. The first, and I believe, only time, I’ve spoken to her was junior year of high school
L-Kat
As if the slanty eyes weren't enough, she's holding a violin... in Physics class. It went something like this:
L-Kat: “Hey, you’re Japanese right?”
Me: “Yea.”
L-K: “Full?”
Me: “Yea.”
That’s it.
Literally.
I never talked to her before or after. So imagine my surprise as a dull night in Texas is flipped on its head by a random Facebook message from her asking me to meet when I get back. I was obviously interested so I accepted immediately.
I met her in a park in Manhattan and as we waited in line for food, we caught up. Or rather, we were introducing ourselves to each other.
I actually had a hard time opening up as I was kind of intimidated.
In my high school, I remembered her as being hot and, don’t tell her, but I think I had a small crush on her. Most likely, it was due to her being different from everyone else.
I guess physically, she was hot just like any other Random Asian Girl, but being physically hot is only relevant for porno magazines and job interviews.
I guess it was her character. My high school was the ultimate of magnet schools—an absurd amount of students
(I’ve heard anywhere from 10,000 to 30,000) take a test and the top 800 get in—so all the girls are bitchy ass white girls or extremely tightly wound Asians. Le Kat seemed to just be normal, which made her stand out. And being Japanese helped. I guess she didn’t stand out much though, as I didn’t know of her existence until the aforementioned conversation.
And even after I talked to her, and had a small crush and everything…I never once tried to talk to her again. Why? (1) I had a girlfriend and like a typically retarded high school dumbass, I assumed being in a relationship meant you weren’t allowed to speak to other girls. Which was why I was antisocial with roughly 50% of my school…and had to spend a year looking for an alternate when I broke up. (2) I had absolutely no game and therefore never even thought of approaching girls. Which, I guess, hasn’t changed much as I’m 0-4 when asking girls out. Now I just happened to have developed an absurd amount of unjustified confidence and believe I have more game than an Ouija board. And (3) it was a small crush. I was
L-Kat and EC
This might look really "cute" or "friendly" but we were actually making fun of Helen Keller. a high school male in the full swing of puberty and I was dating Maddy. My sexual attention span was shorter than Larry Bird’s shorts. Who the fuck cares about other girls? I’m getting brains from a model!
Anyway, I was intimidated so instead of immediately jumping into all my hilarious stories and such, I spent two minutes being shy…and then realized she was funny and hilarious and laughed at all the right times so I just started busting out the stories.
We were eating outside, it started raining and we had to look for backup plans. Being my usual self, I convinced her to let loose and enjoy spontaneity. She hesitantly agreed. We took the train downtown, walked across the Brooklyn Bridge (something I’ve never done and would recommend to everyone), trained to her house, met her father, drove to Flushing, ate Chinese food (I held back stating the obvious joke of Japanese people “invading” a Chinese restaurant) while watching the Beijing opening ceremonies, met up with our mutual friend EC and then at 2:30 am, a full 12 hours since we met, I took the subway home while playing subway tag with some drunk Ohioites.
In those 12 hours, I became fast friends with her and my image of her completely changed. I had assumed she was a prissy, humorless girl who studied constantly (sound Asian enough?) but she was the complete opposite (which is why we became friends). I guess officially our meeting was a date (a guy and a girl meeting is the definiton of a date), but I didn’t treat it as such as it seemed like both of our intentions were to feel each other and become friends (but what do I know about reading women…I’m a stupid male). We became such good friends that I told her some of my innermost fears—I’m afraid I’ll never fall in love, or if I do, the girl won’t love me back—and some ridiculous stories (Streaking in Tokyo, the Japanese Housewife, etc).
But I still couldn’t understand why she wanted to meet me out of the blue. So I asked her.
“You’re Japanese. I’m Japanese. There are no Japanese in NYC.”
Racism leads to meeting hot Asian girls. The theme continues.
The second is my best friend from elementary school. When I was 6 or 7, I moved
Amy
She might look cute...but she once crapped her pants in my house. from my dilapidated old neighborhood to my shiny and nice new neighborhood. Living right next to me and in the same class was a girl named Amy. We quickly became best friends and did crazy shit together.
A few highlights from our time in first and second grade:
-We once prank called 911 and because of the ridiculous story I told the operator, Amy laughed her ass off.
Literally. She crapped her pants and had to wear my Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle underwear and a pair of my jeans back to her house. For my part in making my house smell like shit, I was kicked in my ass by my dad and couldn’t crap for a week.
-We got our hands on every piece of information about sex we could. We read books about sex in the library (our parents were proud we wanted to “Study” so much), Amy stole her dad’s porno collection and we watched it together (our parents were amused we watched “the Lion King” so often), Amy convinced my brother to show her his penis (he was proud he was “in the cool club”)…we did everything short of examining each other. Which
is a good thing because we probably would’ve had sex. And good sex, considering how educated we were on the subject. Yes, we were 6.
-Whenever we were on a playdate, we passed the butcher shop. And our mothers would always buy us a stick of Kielbasa each (a Polish sausage for the uninformed). Which, of course, lead our perverted minds to make penis jokes. And when we exhausted penis jokes (and our stomachs told us we were hungry), we would rip off the casing with our small teeth and our perverted minds led us to make jokes about “a penis getting attacked by piranhas.” And then our mothers bought us hot dog buns…I think you can figure out what avenue our jokes drifted to when we had a sausage and bun in our hands.
And you wonder why I’m so fucked up.
Even though we were best friends in elementary school, we slowly drifted apart when we went to different middle and high schools. I met her here and there in middle school and high school to catch up, but nothing regular. Since our last “catch up” session had been junior year of high school, we
A Watermelon Filled with Gin
A great way to get plastered...and a great way to trick black people into drinking hard alcohol. decided to meet after a 4 year hiatus.
We reminisced, then decided to head to her house. Just to make it perfectly clear, despite the sexual undertones of our relationship, its strictly platonic. She’s the one girl I could never have sex with because I’ve known her for so long. It’s like have sex with your sister or something.
Because she’s a college student with no money, she lives in, of all places, Bedford-Stuyvsant. Bedford-Stuyvesant, for those not living in New York and for those not in touch with black culture, is basically the ghetto-ist place in New York City. It has the highest crime rate, it’s the most dangerous neighborhood, and its home for the Notorious B.I.G., Jay-Z, Busta Rhymes, Lil’ Kim, etc. It’s not a neighborhood a Caucasian female from Manhattan should be living in.
Taking the train in was hilarious. It was the Dominican parade that day and our car was filled with Dominicans going back to Bed-Stuy from Manhattan. Probably due to the hyped up emotions (and drugs) coursing through their system, they were going apeshit in the car (a few were smoking cigarettes and joints…in a subway car). New Yorkers are used
to ridiculous behavior so me and Amy didn’t really give a fuck (we were actually pretty amused), but there were three Wonder Bread white tourists trapped in the middle of the car looking like they were about to cry. They were staring at the ceiling trying to avoid eye contact with everyone and they surreptitiously moved their wallets and cellphones to their front pockets.
One of the Dominicans started needling one of the white kids, “Hey…Hey
ese…show me your wallet,
hombre…come on,
ese…”
He eased up when the white kids looked like they were going to pass out. Which they probably did when me, Amy and all the Dominicans got off. As we looked over our shoulders as the doors slid closed, we saw the three of them huddle into a corner seat and hug each other.
I love New York.
The rest of the night was pretty inconsequential…we both discovered the other drank and ended up drinking a lot…and then we discovered we each smoked so we smoked…and like almost every other night, I got fucked up.
At one point, we soaked a watermelon in a bottle of gin…and after tearing through it, she
spent the rest of the night puking and I passed out on her couch. I woke up sprawled face first in between two couch cushions and she was passed out under the couch.
Friends since first grade…friends for life?
The third girl I met was a friend of Maddy’s. She wanted to hook me up with her friend…more for the girl’s benefit than mine. Now that my drought has ended, I’m trying to find a long term ace…not random stopgap relief pitchers. But Maddy is a good friend, and she insisted so I decided to play along (with the intention of stopping things if it went too far) and this girl (named Lisa) is a model so it'll make a good story. I also wanted to check if my game was any good after Texas and what better way to check than to try it on a model?
I met this girl in Central Park and I was immediately leery. Like most models, she was hot, but as I’ve mentioned before, I don’t place that much stock in physical attractiveness. She also seemed really into me which was really strange considering we had met for
Lisa
One of her model pictures (from Maddy). I didn't deem it necessary to document a date with a dumb blond. the first time that day and I'm probably nowhere close to the guys that hit on her in terms of looks, money and douchbag-ness.
Everything fell into place when she told me she broke up from a long term relationship a week ago. I was supposed to play the role of the “rebound guy”. Under normal circumstances, this would be fine, but I wasn’t really digging this girl considering a long term relationship with her would be close to impossible. I had just met her, I’m starting school again in Canada, she would wake up eventually from her post-breakup stupor and start dating a random rich asshole…nothing would work out.
But Maddy is a good friend, so I tried to pretend she was a prospect.
Ok, let’s see what tools she’s got.
As I mentioned, she was hot so I guess that was taken care of. Time to see if she has the other tools: humor, wit, intelligence and spontaneity.
I guess her humor was alright. She made jokes here and there…and she also laughed at all the appropriate times…
Her wit was non-existent, however. All her jokes were fucking retarded mainstream jokes regurgitated from a Seinfeld episode or something. Whatever, no one is perfect.
Spontaneity was spot on. In fact, it was too good. She had no focus and kept flying all over the place. I could barely keep track of what the fuck we were doing as I felt like I was trying to make a kid with ADD on shrooms stay on track in a toy store.
Time to check intelligence. Up until now, our conversation had been light and cordial…time to ramp it up. If she was a 4 tool player, she could maybe bust into the majors. Maybe.
I found an opening when she asked me a question:
Lisa: “What ethnicity are you?”
Me: “Japanese.”
Lisa: “Oh cool…”
Lisa: “So how did your parents get here?”
Me : “On the USS Arizona.”
Lisa: “Oh, a spaceship?”
Me: “Um, the weather’s nice.”
Ok, maybe she doesn’t know anything about Pearl Harbor…or naming conventions for ships…but a fucking spaceship? Ok, maybe that was a slip-up.
I tried testing her again when we saw a circle of people around a breakdance battle. One guy was completely schooling the other, so I turned to her and said:
Me: “That guy got
taken over like Poland in 1939!”
Lisa : “What happened in Poland in 1939?”
Me: “Umm…like Germany? Poland? You know…”
Lisa: “Oh, you mean that volcano that erupted?”
Me: “Um, the weather’s nice.”
Ok, maybe she never learned World War II history. I doubt it considering it was huge
fucking war, but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt. Either way, a volcano? In Poland? What the fuck? I’m guessing she mixed up Pompeii with Poland but still…
I tried again when the conversation drifted towards college.
Lisa: “So which school do you go to?”
Me: “McGill. It’s a school up in Canada.”
Lisa: “Oh yeah! I’ve heard of it. You must be mad smart!”
Me: “I try my best…but I feel pretty retarded most of the time.”
Lisa: “Oh yeah? How’s Canada? Is it warm?”
Me: “No its pretty cold. It’s a ways North of here.”
Lisa: “…Oh, which city in Canada is McGill in? Cincinnati?”
Me: “Are you fucking retarded bitch? You are one of the stupidest girls I’ve ever met in my life. I could have a better conversation with Helen Keller
wearing mittens! Go fucking read a book or some shit! And the weather is fucking nice!”
I went home, then it hit me. "I just passed up sex with one of the hottest girls I have ever met." Is this what maturing is?
Probably not. I hadn't verbally chewed someone out in awhile and she was the closest (and easiest) target. Plus, she really was fucking dumb.
I forced myself to stop thinking about it lest I realize how retarded I was.
In an effort to forget about her stunning good looks, I packed my bags and flew to Chicago.
How about that for a transition, bitch!
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Josevich
Josevich
lol!
i've enjoyed reading 2 of your entries and look forward to reading more. youre a lil mean and judgemental. but i think most people are, they just dont speak their minds and write blogs. cheers!