"I don't want you to change, all I want is for you to be normal".
It was nearly a year ago to the day, the third Friday in May that I met my ex girlfriend who at first sight I figured would be the last bitch I'd ever be trying to shove my dick inside.
With age and experience comes the ability to tell the difference between a cool ass chick and the bitch you trust enough to trap with a ring and a baby. Unfortunately she turned out to be a little more of the first one.
None the less I remember that weekend and the ensuing weeks and months of that relationship like the back of my honkey hands. Chick was supportive of my geekiness and from what I could tell, recognized it as a positive that she would not find elsewhere.
Thing is though, a person doesn't necassarily become like me overnight. There are alot of highs and lows along the way that causes a person to embrace and seek out alternative forms of entertainment and that is something I don't think she understood or related too.
The quarterback of a high school football team for example doesn't wake up one morning and discover that he is a fan of comic books and David Cronenberg films, because in all likelyhood he has so many yes men and popularity surrounding him already that he doesn't have the time or interest in doing anything besides whatever is currently cool.
On the flipside, even as a good ass basketball player I was never able to gain access to that lifestyle. There were alot of Saturday mornings watching anime and kung fu flicks, Saturday afternoons spent renting old videos and evenings dateless inside of dollar cinemas.
At twelve years old I remember my personal heros at the time being Dennis Rodman and Quentin Tarantino because they were both the "anti" of everything that was traditionally cool. I was a social outcast and for the most part I embraced that as best I could, realizing at an early age that no matter how cool by societal standards everybody else thought they were, it was not worth losing who I was as a individual to be apart of that.
Which brings me to this. After twenty-six years(at the time)of enduring bullying, hazing, taunting and teasing for being a tall, skinny, acne riddled asshole who kept it real no matter the cost.
No bitch.
And I mean no bitch.
I dont care if she did have beautiful skin, tattoos, a fat booty and nice wigs, is going to convence me that the time is ripe for changing who I am as a person to be "normal" just because I have gained access to roam freely through her vaginal walls.
Homegirl was cool, no doubt. And I've spent the last twelve months and some change wondering about the what-ifs and what-have-you's of what-could-have-been. Especially when I take into consideration that part of my attraction to her was that she was a fan of Coffy and the irony that almost a year to the day later I'd be by myself on a bus surrounded by drug addicts, drifters and crazies on my way to meet Pam Grier herself was not lost on me.
The world comes full circle and it spins mighty fast to get there. The third weekend in May of 2010 was a memorable one to say the least and my only real goal for the third weekend in May of 2011 was to top that by any means necassary.
Armed with a bottle of Hennessy Black and a pocket full of cash, with a few detours through Orlando, Daytona and St. Augustine it was only a matter of time until I got my chance.
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