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Friday Story (Archive - Friday the 13th)
Friday Story (Archive - Friday the 13th)
I have some new Friday Stories in the works but I thought I'd start my blog with a few of my old Friday Stories. For those who aren't familiar with these stories, there is only one rule--it has to be true. I may take a verbose path and describe not only the truth but what is going through my head but believe it or not, these things have happened. Truth can indeed be stranger than fiction. (Except for those Friday Stories that are purely observation--they're written with a little bit of the crap I'm full of.)
In this modern era of science and psychology taking the place of mysticism and religion, it's become almost silly to be superstitious. People might even look at you strangely if you even mention being superstitious as this is not the societal norm. I have never been a particularly superstitiuos person myself, but after the day I had yesterday, I'm not so sure.
I belive that Friday the 13th had already started somewhere in the world around 7am Pacific time on Thursday. Maybe Fiji? This is the only explanation I can think of for the Thursday I had unless I'm just an idiot-savant channeler of bad mojo.
The morning started routinely enough. I got off the couch that I'm now sleeping on since being demoted from the lofty position of Kim's bed partner to the "house boy couch sleeper." I sorely walked to the bathroom to see a man about a horse and had my daily epiphany during the five seconds I look at myself in the mirror every morning. "I'm definitely not getting any prettier as moons come and go and I don't 'keep' well when I'm sleeping." This is evident by the crusty drool stain at the corner of my mouth and the "Alfalfa" style hair--with the little that's on top of my dome. Being a mouth breather doesn't help. It's about 7am and I walk back into the kitchen to make some coffee when I hear the front door being unlocked. It's Kim wearing the little number she wore to work yesterday with a baseball jersey that is way too large for her over it. Let's just say that I don't think she had a late night at the office although she obviously had a late night. Maybe she saw a man about a horse as well.
I may not be the most intuitive person in the world, but this definitely seemed like a sign that I should move out. I'm quick like that. But I had a golf outing planned so I was going to go enjoy myself with a round before packing up. I threw on my golf clothes, grabbed my clubs and walked towards my newly washed car. As I walked outside, a bird that must have had a rough night at the local tavern flew over my car, bombing about a quarter of the windshield. 15 minutes, some windex and about 20 paper towels later, I'm driving off to play golf.
Maybe I had a lot on my mind and I was angry about Kim or the bird, I don't know which, but I had the weirdest and worst golf day I have had since playing during my college years. I remember THAT outing well. I went to play golf with my Dad and mistakenly brought along my new golf clubs that I had purchased with money I earned working part-time at Nintendo of America to supposedly make extra money for school. It turned out that I would later need to work at Nintendo of America full time because my "parental scholoarhsip" was revoked the next week. Something about my having a false sense of security and my parents needing to teach me a lesson. But yesterday's round of golf was different so I'm just going to chalk it up to it being Friday the 13th somewhere in the world.
I could write about how I hit the power lines...twice, but the most surreal event took place when I was back at my car and taking off my golf shoes. My friend (Paul) was about 150 feet away and was starting to back his car out of his parking spot when a pick-up truck came flying by. They didn't see Paul backing out in time, nor Paul them, and there was a minor collision. Everyone gets out of their cars pissed--Paul and the two rednecks in the truck. They all start yelling at each other and placing blame when I see the two rednecks push Paul. I quickly put on my manly sandals and started jogging towards them when I see one of the rednecks push Paul to the ground. It looked like they weren't done with Paul so as I ran up behind them, I threw my right elbow at the face of the guy to my right and then threw my right fist at the guy to my left. I quickly turned back to the guy on my right and tried to push him down while yelling, "Break it up." I turned back to the guy on my left just in time to see his knuckles in the corner of my left eye. There's a slight bump there now but no discoloration...yet. I push him back and again yell, "Break it up. Do we have to call the cops about the accident AND us fighting or can we settle this now?" After a lot more mumbling and arguing, things ended somewhat civilized...I think.
After that fun, I drove back to Kim's and started packing. I was stomping around all pissed from everything that had happened, walked into her storage shed to get a few boxes and accidently stomped on some sort of weird hoe. It looked like some amalgamation that would be created if a real hoe and a rake ever procreated. It was almost comic--the handle flew towards my head and hit me in the temple next to my war wound from earlier. I swear that I saw the bar buddy bird friends of the morning bomber fly around my head. I fell to one knee and held my head. I have never been knocked unconscious before but I think I just experienced the closest thing to it without actually passing out. There was a lot of darkness and some tunnel vision for a few moments.
Think the story is over yet? Nope! I called the friend (Currin) that I'm now staying with and he said that he'd meet me at his place around 6:15pm. He told that if I arrived early to just go out back and enjoy the tranquility of his yard until he returned. I got to his place a little early and let myself through his gate to his back yard. Currin is a great guy who has never done drugs, is a Big Brother, coaches a youth soccer team, takes his young cousins hiking, does nice things for his neighbors and friends, etc. I'm this person in his back yard who's sweaty, looks like they've been in a fight and is smoking and drinking. (Oh yeah, I brought a six pack with me.) The overly protective neighbors called the police to have me "checked out." Luckily, Currin got home before the police did and everything ended peacefully and I didn't have to get strip searched by the police.
Today's been fairly normal. I had lunch with my ex-wife. Kim called and wants to know if I'm interested in going to Cape Cod with her and Nick (her son) in August (what the hell???!!!) and the girlfriend I dated before Kim heard I was in town and knowing my situation now, wants to spend some quality time together tonight. (Oh, she's married by the way.) Like I said, just a normal day. Again...WHAT THE HELL?!?!?! There is no explanation for any of this but to blame it on Friday the 13th. (Well, that and the fact that I attract crazy like moths to a flame.)
As you look at all of the people around you today, keep alert. You never know when someone might freak out :::insert Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire "freaking out" with his bagged goldfish::: on Friday the 13th and drag you into some demented web that has no escape until 12:01am tonight. Me? I'm going to either sleep until today is over or run around naked in Currin's back yard until I pass out from heat stroke. I'm sure his neighbors would love that. And for those of you who may be wondering, no, I'm not going to be spending any quality time with anyone tonight.