5/15/ Recap
Played basketball in the morning. Was asked to join a pick-up 3-on-3 game. I must of had some boiling emotion deep inside of me that needed expression because I was focused on the court, just didn’t give a fuck, driving down the lane and knocking into bodies for baskets underneath and crossing over into jump shots over people. I scored most of the team’s points. I was on a rampage today, determined to express my emotions whether or not I got hurt.
Last night’s experience of having dinner with old high school friends put the fire in me. It reminded me of the balance of the world, how many people look at you and hope that you fail, how many people will nail you in your place because you threaten them. And it reminded me that their fear has nothing to do with me. I will grow and become despite their desperate disapproval of me. They are taking out their fear of being mediocre on me.
Met up with Sareet, Lypstykgirl, Kate and Andrea at the Hollywood Fire Station (station 29? If it weren’t so late, I’d look it up for you guys). It was LAFD Appreciation Day so we showed up for the tours and to browse the museum. Actually, we went because Sareet wanted to take a picture of Pig, her dalmation, on a fire truck. And I thought it would be funny to “get in some fireman’s pants.”
We arrived late so we missedthe pancake breakfast, but they were allowing us to tour the firehouse which we did until we found a fireman who was willing to assist us with our firehouse experience. We tried to get Pig up on the firetruck but she was feeling overwhelmed by the place so she didn’t want to jump up on the truck. Regardless, we took pictures like Japanese tourists. Lypstykgirl asked if she could wear one of the jackets. The fireman asked if she wanted to wear the pants and she declined. Happily, I asked him if I could wear them. Mission accomplished–got in fireman’s pants. He even let me wear his helmet. heh. There’s all kinds of sexual metaphor there.
I was dying to know more about the fireman…who he was, what he experienced, how he perceived himself in relation to the world outside. I know we’re always jokingly objectifying firemen, but in all truth, these people work in a very dangerous occupation which involves tragedy and risking their lives. I asked him about why he decided to become a firefighter and wanted to know how he kept things at work and didn’t take the death, tragedy and human cruelty home with him. I wanted to know what keeps him awake at night. I asked him about how seeing horrible things affect him and he said that nothing really affects him. He sees a dead body but he still goes home, brushes his teeth and goes to bed. He did admit that the only time anything ever bothered him was this 21 year old girl who had gone missing.
You see, a year ago or so, a young aspiring actress went missing in LA. Her roommate said that the last time she talked to her, she was going on a photo shoot. It was all over the news for weeks. And when her body was found, those who still cared about people in this city felt a deep sadness.
So this fireman, Hurwitz, was saying that after the city searched for the girl for weeks, the station gets a body recovery call and he knew it must be her. They had found a body but they couldn’t disturb the crime scene so they sent an aerial ladder down to get the coroner close to the site. This fireman had to go with her to make sure she didn’t fall down or anything, so he was 10 feet away from the body. He said the girl was in her panties with her hands tied behind her back and it was just overwhelming how cruel people could be. He started talking about how seeing these things makes up who he is. He sees amazing human cruelty like mothers who pimp out their 9 year-old, and rape calls, which are the worst. He admits that seeing these things probably make him the way he is. Not that I’m cynical, he added self-consciously. But he is. He’s lost his faith in mankind because he’s seen the darkness we can be capable of, and you can read it so clearly in his body language and the way he expresses himself.
He had tattoos covering both of his forearms. I wish I had asked him what th symbolism of his tattoos were. This man was haunted. He’s a brave soul who willfully goes deep into the places where demons exist. I want to know what the middle of the night feels like for this man, when all the world melts away and it’s only him and the echo of his mind. What drives those people who continue to confront darkness. My guess is that there is a deep down optimism and desire to believe in mankind. And they go back because they hope that somewhere within the glimpses of evil, he finds some sign of God.
After the fire station, I got a haircut then rushed to Santa Monica to have dinner with Brian, his parents and his grandparents. They’re all from Texas. I chatted up his grandparents on the entire ride over, and at the dinner table, I was dying to ask them how they met each other. Brian’s grandmother said that his grandfather came back from the Navy and asked her out. When they got married, she was 14 years old. I asked how old he was, and she told me he was 5 years older than her. The best thing about the evening was when Brian’s grandmother told me that she couldn’t be offended by anything said at the dinner table and assured me that I could say whatever I want. So near the end of the meal, we were reveling them with Michael stories, the classic ones where he claims someone called him a motherfucker and then admits no one called him that…but they “could” have, and the one where Michael was watching South Park: The Movie, and then told Brian, “Suck my dick.” It’s so refreshing to be able to say “motherfucker” and “suck my dick” in front of grandparents. Definitely a defining moment in one’s life.
Went to Arsenal afterwards. Mostly because we didn’t want to deal with the velvet rope at the W. Motley crew as always. It’s interesting; I was watching different guys’ games…like the pussies that wanted girls to approach them, the guys who were salesman and approached every single girl until they found one with low enough self-esteem, and the nerdy guys who really, really wanted a girlfriend, but whose ideas of being suave revolved around looking like someone from Magnum P.I.
We decided we had to leave because it was becoming a freak show. As we headed out the door, I caught a guy on the dance floor doing the running man. Yes, it was time to leave.
When we got home, Brian looked over at me and jokingly said, “You go out to dinner with my grandparents and you couldn’t even put on a bra.” I started laughing and told him that the reason I was late in the first place was that I noticed that if I bent over, you could see a flash of my bra, so I was trying to figure if it was worse to reveal bra or to not wear one at all. “So you thought showing them titty was better than showing bra.” I figure, if you show bra, it implies titty, versus just not wearing a bra so that it becomes all or nothing–they either think, she’s not wearing a bra, or don’t think about titties at all. But then it dawned on me, it’s probably weird that I was so concerned with the state of my goods in relation to Brian’s grandparents in the first place.