Daniel

As I roamed the great halls of community college today, an elderly Korean man got out of my way so I could get a drink of water. He smiled nicely and presented the fountain to me. I was just bored.  It was only a three-second take. I didn't want to kill the whales.  Even as I rose to walk away, I could tell he was following me. I stopped at the corner to let him walk past me if I happened to be wrong, but it turned out I wasn't. He stopped right in front of me as if to happily point out an embarrassing booger I had planted on my collar.

Daniel: You study here?
Me: Huh?... Oh, yeah.
Daniel: You like it here?
Me: Yeah, I do.
Daniel: What you like to study?
Me: Graphic design. Art. Web design.
Daniel: Oh, wow. So, what would you like to do?
Me:....What?
Daniel: What do you want to do (leaning in so I could understand).
Me:...Oh, well,  Web design mostly. You know, websites. Internet.

He nodded. 

And for the next twenty minutes, right there in the middle of the hallway at community college, Daniel preached to me about his conversion from Buddhism to Christianity; the Bible and all its teachings.  Through out the session I looked around, to either see who set me up for this, or someone I might know to get me out. But, there was no one. I had too few friends. So, I stayed still and listened, but let my eyes wander like they do at toy stores. Or Wal-Mart.  He left me with a couple sheets of Genesis Bible Reading Material. He also asked if he ever sees me again, if he could bother me. I told him he could, only because I was ready to be done. And now I am afraid he is waiting around every corner, ready to attack me guerrilla style, followed by a session of power-preach.

the pits

Apparently, I already asked Vanessa, who sits next to me in my Art History class, how long she could hold her breath, last week, because she told me I had. I felt like a first-rate dufus for forgetting.

Moka and Me

Last semester, in my film studies class, there was a girl in my class who didn't always know what was going on.  I'll call her Moka. She seemed nice and I actually felt kind of bad that she was weird and didn't know my language well. I didn't pity her, I just felt she deserved more attention because not being at the same level of understanding must be real tough. One day, I even saved a seat for her, just because it seemed like the right thing to do.  She had missed a few classes, and being the nice guy I am, I offered to give her my notes for the upcoming test we were going to have. I even copied them, so the transfer would be smooth and easy. We were going to meet up one day outside my art class, after it ended.
So, a few days later, I was in my computer art class working hard on a project. My back was to the door, so I could not see when someone comes in. I was not even paying attention to people talking because I was really "in the zone" and completely unaware of anything around me. Apparently, someone kept showing up in the doorway, causing the whole class to look, because of the shadow this person cast in our dark room. This person was relentless and my teacher, Jennifer, apparently was yelling at her that we were in class. Who was this mystery person that keeps popping their head in? It was almost as if they didn't understand. I happen to be turned away from my computer, talking to someone, when the disruptor was there. I caught a look. It was Moka. And this time, my teacher demanded what she wanted. "The guy," she said and then quickly disappeared again. I couldn't believe it and I also got Hot-Cheeks.  Jennifer, still pissed from being disrupted, angrily looked to the class after Moka booked it. "Who knows this person?" she demanded again. The class was looking at her. It was odd when Jennifer lost her patients with any of us, and so it scared us. Everyone was listening and and looking, but me. I was hiding, playing the fool card. When I did peek around my shoulder, she quickly saw me. "Matthew! Do you know her?!" she asked, pointing her finger to the empty doorway.  Holding my shaking hands up as if to plead for my life, I shook my head in most directions, so as to avoid a complete 'yes' or 'no' answer. It was true that I was the one she came for, for help because I pitied her. But there was no way I would admit it. Once everything had calmed down, I went out to visit the water fountain with hopes of running into Moka so I could ask what the hell she was doing and why she wanted to embarrass me so badly.  She must have hidden or something, out of fear, because I didn't see her. I still had Hot-Cheeks when I got back to my computer and couldn't make them go away. Shay, who sat next to me, some how knew that Moka had come for me, by the way I too-easily played off not knowing who she was. Also, my Hot-Cheeks probably gave her the hint.
I found her after class and tried to give her the notes without anyone from my class seeing, but was unsuccessful.   

Dream 3

There were tennis courts and people wearing white shirts and white shorts were were playing. Some poor kids, myself included, were hiding under a tent-like thing hanging over a closed, dark tennis court. We watched the people play closely, in the hopes of a thick, cookie disks they were hitting instead of balls, would fall close to the dark net that separated us. We were on edge and very hungry. When one did come by, we'd all run out like a wild pack of hungry hyenas and grab the cookie disk. It would crumble of course, but the chances were good that some of us would get a few chunks of it to eat. 
This went on for hours.
Later, we were doing the same thing.
After a while into our wait, a cookie disk finally came. This time, it did not shatter. I could barely contain myself because I was so hungry.  As I ran out to grab it, I realized it was not a cookie, but a large high-top shoe made of cookie.
That must be hard to hit around, I thought. As I grabbed it and got back to our saggy tent quickly, it felt warm and somehow I just knew someone had been wearing it. I could smell the sweat from the foot that was once worn by the cookie shoe, formally the cookie disk... I hesitated about the whole situation. -That I would soon be eating "foot" .  But hey, its food. When times are tough, you do what you can to survive.
And I tried not to think about it.

Sunny Afternoon Dealing

I was sitting in the sun today, downtown, just relaxing and listing to music before class started. Then, a guy walked right in front of me and gave the the, "aight'" thing where he dips his head ever so slightly. He walked passed me but stopped ten feet away and turned around. As he came in front of me again, he asked how I was doing...

Guy: How you doing today?
Matthew: Good. I like today. Its so nice out.
Guy: Yeah, its nice. Whats your name?
Matthew: Russ. Whats yours?
Guy: I'm Will. How you doing, Russ?

We did that "Bros" hand shake that good "pals" do, where you grab thumbs, change your grip as you bring it in close, and you never who is doing what, who is leading the cycle and where its going...I kind of went limp for Will, because I wasn't sure how this was going to go down.

Matthew: hhuh?
Guy: you doing good, man?
Matthew: Yeah.
Guy: You live in the area?
Matthew: Huh?
Guy: you live the area? Chicago area?
Matthew: No, not really. -Just for school.
Guy: Well I could give you a number to call if you ever want some weed, and I could get it to you.
Matthew: What?
Guy: If you wanted to buy some weed....
Matthew: Im sorry, what?
Guy: ...Weed. It'd be easy. You could just call.... You smoke this stuff?
Matthew: ...Huh? No. I don't smoke this stuff...

Then it got weird and a bit quiet. Will did not know what to say, because who knows if I'd be able to hear him. We enjoyed the sun.
The awkward silence between the drug dealer and the full-grown school boy who couldn't hear, was probably a lot more than Will had planned on. Seeing this, he panicked badly by doing nothing but hold his ground, look suave in the sunlight and be cool under pressure.

Matthew: Well... I think go to school now... Have a good one, Will.
Guy: Hey, you too, Russ. Have a good day.

The Ass-Biting Passed

A few weeks ago I made a new friend at school. I helped her with some art stuff in the computer lab. She is really nice and laughs a lot. I work a lot in the lab quite a bit and run into her often, now. I answer a lot questions about computer stuff she doesn't understand.  Tonight, I helped find pictures of doors and buses. Later, we stood outside the school not knowing what to do. She needed to eat and wanted it to be cheap. Her cheap though, was too cheap for me, apparently. We rode the train two stops to where I get on the bus. Once we got out of the subway and once again stood there, she hinted to me to come in and eat with her....But it was McDonalds.
"I am not going in that place with you," I said, pointing. Maybe I was a bit too forward, but she just did not know how much of a passed I have with this establishment.
"I don't feel comfortable. Too many people..." I think I went on about something, but its not entirely clear to me at this time. I was nervous.
"Maybe in another six months. I have a hard time breathing in there."
I saw my bus pulling up, so we said our good-byes. She wished me good luck on my journey.
...It wasn't until I got home and made a sandwich, that I realized I gave up the possibility at a nice evening, with a nice new friend, in a big city, where its hard for a guy like me to find a nice friend, all because I refused to step into a McDonalds for a cheap meal.

Stache' Sporting

I knew I was going to shave or at least trim my beard for some pictures for my photography class. However, I failed to be prepared for the feelings I got when I cut it it down to a mustache.
"Who is that man in the mirror, now?"
I could not stop laughing as I buzzed off all but the stache'.  I looked like a completely different person, like a real man.  When I had the beard, my face looked more narrow. Now, it looks littler and rounder. Untrustworthy. I walked out of the bathroom and they both laughed. Possibly out of fear, because maybe I had a gun in my pants or some candy I might use to lure into a garage or van. Paul liked it, and Brigid did not.
"For photographs, its fine, but get rid of it before you go out in the world, okay?" she gently pleaded. Something happened to me as we took those pictures. Some kind of power, like I knew everything in the world, including the cougar-attack facts and how to beat people up with (without even touching them). It scared me.
As I brushed my teeth tonight before bed, I worked on my faces in the mirror. Normally, they are just silly ones that make me laugh and other people ask if I am lost. These faces though, were new and I did not know them well.
They were dirty.
Mysterious. Like a sketchy salesman selling designer jeans out the back of his pick-up truck, behind the high school. Chicks, man.
I didn't trust him.....and yet, something about him, this person who was me, but not, at the same time, opened me up to the possibility of a new world. A new life of fortune and glory. A life full of corner-standing, chick-grabbing, Stache' sporting, adventure. -Something I have never had.
Maybe, when I go out into the world tomorrow,  people will fear me, or at least, not ask for spare change. Maybe I will hold my head up high and say,
"I dare you not to look."
Or, "Yeah, my pants are tight, my shades are dark and I have a man-bulge, what of it, jack?"
-All with the eyes, the stach' and the uncontrollable need for babes.