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Feeling II: Strangers
Jun. 24th, 2021 09:36 amIt occurred to me that I haven't talked about prom weekend here yet. I've been hesitant since I didn't really have the grandest of times. It wasn't even particularly bad, just uncomfortable. I'm a little sad I wasn't able to have the experience I wanted, but I should've expected it since I know Amanda isn't fun to travel with. We got uneasily crossfaded in a shitty motel together, and then she basically ignored me for the rest of the trip. I felt estranged for most of it, it was weird. But I did make good memories unrelated to Amanda, and I think they are worth talking about.
When we visited the boardwalk the night we went down to Seaside Heights, I had a highly specific goal. For years I've wanted one of those airbrush shirts, the kind they make right in front of you at those crowded, neon Jersey shore merchandise shops. I'm enchanted by the culture of these places- the shelves lined with overdone shot glasses, sweatshirts with the worst graphics imaginable, clear counters filled with cheap jewelry, it all interests me for some reason. And of course, given the location, I succeeded at finding the most jaded of artists for my prophetic request at one of these stores- an older man named Ron. Ron wore a rainbow galaxy shirt and a tropical blue fedora, and was charmed by my enthusiasm towards both his character and my shirt-to-be. Our spirits rejoiced over my vision, which Ron wrote down using this comically large pen that really drove the whole thing home. We chatted for a little while and he said that "since I was cool" he'd add some clouds and sparkles in addition to the gaudy pink heart with my name in it that I had asked for. When I came to pick up the final product, I reassured Ron that he had made my childhood dreams come true and we took a picture together because yes, he was just that chill. When I asked him about his job on the boardwalk, this is (roughly) what he had to say:
"I love my job, man. I can see the beach and I can be stoned. It's legal now, you know. And I get to make people happy, so that's good for me." - Ron
What a guy.
The same night, after we had returned to the motel and gotten mildly stoned, I was sent out to get water for Amanda and I. I'm not very functional while high, so I was fortunate enough to have booked a motel right across the street from a classic coastal corner store. The nighttime was already in full swing when I arrived, and I was the only one there. I love experiencing places in this way. The fridges hummed around me almost enough to drown out the tail end of Yellow Ledbetter, which played quietly from a speaker behind the counter. When I went to pay, a woman of 40 or so approached the desk and I mentioned the music. We talked about our mutual respect for Eddie Vedder and also Chris Cornell, and it was fucking rad. She high fived me before I left and I was overjoyed by such a simple interaction. I thrive off of stuff like that. Just the day to day experiences I have with strangers that allow me to feel at peace with humanity. It makes me excessively happy to be mindful of it.
This is why these things deserve to be written down. I want to remember them years from now and have them to look back on when I feel discouraged and upset. I love to daydream about the people I meet and wonder what their lives are like and what things they've seen. I'm also glad I'm able to bring simple moments of joy to other people as well. I hope I am able to do that my entire life.
Sidenote: This journal is now bona fide. It contains over 13700 words, excluding writing that is not my own. I wonder how far I'll get.
When we visited the boardwalk the night we went down to Seaside Heights, I had a highly specific goal. For years I've wanted one of those airbrush shirts, the kind they make right in front of you at those crowded, neon Jersey shore merchandise shops. I'm enchanted by the culture of these places- the shelves lined with overdone shot glasses, sweatshirts with the worst graphics imaginable, clear counters filled with cheap jewelry, it all interests me for some reason. And of course, given the location, I succeeded at finding the most jaded of artists for my prophetic request at one of these stores- an older man named Ron. Ron wore a rainbow galaxy shirt and a tropical blue fedora, and was charmed by my enthusiasm towards both his character and my shirt-to-be. Our spirits rejoiced over my vision, which Ron wrote down using this comically large pen that really drove the whole thing home. We chatted for a little while and he said that "since I was cool" he'd add some clouds and sparkles in addition to the gaudy pink heart with my name in it that I had asked for. When I came to pick up the final product, I reassured Ron that he had made my childhood dreams come true and we took a picture together because yes, he was just that chill. When I asked him about his job on the boardwalk, this is (roughly) what he had to say:
"I love my job, man. I can see the beach and I can be stoned. It's legal now, you know. And I get to make people happy, so that's good for me." - Ron
What a guy.
The same night, after we had returned to the motel and gotten mildly stoned, I was sent out to get water for Amanda and I. I'm not very functional while high, so I was fortunate enough to have booked a motel right across the street from a classic coastal corner store. The nighttime was already in full swing when I arrived, and I was the only one there. I love experiencing places in this way. The fridges hummed around me almost enough to drown out the tail end of Yellow Ledbetter, which played quietly from a speaker behind the counter. When I went to pay, a woman of 40 or so approached the desk and I mentioned the music. We talked about our mutual respect for Eddie Vedder and also Chris Cornell, and it was fucking rad. She high fived me before I left and I was overjoyed by such a simple interaction. I thrive off of stuff like that. Just the day to day experiences I have with strangers that allow me to feel at peace with humanity. It makes me excessively happy to be mindful of it.
This is why these things deserve to be written down. I want to remember them years from now and have them to look back on when I feel discouraged and upset. I love to daydream about the people I meet and wonder what their lives are like and what things they've seen. I'm also glad I'm able to bring simple moments of joy to other people as well. I hope I am able to do that my entire life.
Sidenote: This journal is now bona fide. It contains over 13700 words, excluding writing that is not my own. I wonder how far I'll get.
