aug23:life smacks me in the face like Kobe Bryant smacks a biatch 2

So before I go into how dastardly depressing and terribly terrible today was, let me tell you a funny anecdote about something that happened at work today, that will tie into the end of this post. As I was walking by the front desk at one point early on in my shift tonight, Leo (who yes, as a matter of fact works at the front desk) told me there was a gentleman outside in our West entrance parking lot fishing. So walk out side to attend to the situation, as we say in our official security guard lingo, and honest to tension there is a man in the parking lot fishing. I walk up to him…wait. Let me just write out a small transcript of our conversation.

ME: excuse me, everything ok?

Him: everything’s fine.

Me: I see that you’re fishing

Him: that I am

Me: so they biting today?

Him: eh, not so much.

Me: well, sadly I’m going to have to ask you to stop fishing, since this is a parking lot and all, and not a lake or a place with any foreseeable water that could possibly have fish in it.

Him: Oh, ok sorry then…I’ll put it away.

Then there was more useless banter about him putting it away and how I he was waiting for his sister or someone to yadda yadda, I wasn’t listening, just wanted him to shut the fuck up so I could leave.

Now that is over let us get to the dastardly depressing part of this post

I’m not sure how to start all this, so I will just start with what happened last night then move on from there.

Last night about 2am I get a phone call from mystery girl’s boyfriend. He wants’ to meet up and talk about what has been going on. For sake of not wanting to dig deeper into the situation and tell you all about the horrific details of what has been going on, I will just say refer to previous entries and the rest isn’t for you to know. I figured I owe him that given all that’s been going on between the three of us. He calls me back about 2:44am he calls me back and says he took off work early and wants to know if I can meet him now to talk. I tell him I will meet him at Sherries. We meet up there at 3am and enter into our hour and forty-five minute conversation of the titans.

What happened next is not for your ears; we talked about events far and dear. He told me of tales of their tattered past, seemingly trying to scare me to make me run far and fast. Asked me questions I just couldn’t answer, but enough of this I just found out my dad has cancer.

Yes folks, I am derailing from the topic of mystery girl to what has me dastardly depressed tonight. My father called me while I was on my way to work and told me they were making my old band room into an apartment. I asked them for whom was this looming apartment for? To which he told me him and my mom. Confusion set in greatly for me at this point. He then told me that he would come to the bowling alley and talk to me about it. I found out that my father has some form of cancer in his left hand by his pinky. He was going to get it rid of it today at a doctor’s appointment but they did some tests and found that the cancer has moved up his arm and into his bicep.

So what does all this mean? This means that my father will probably have to undergo chemotherapy. This also means that your truly will be moving back into his parents house to help out. My sister, her fiancé and her little boy JT (who is 10 now, thanks for asking) will be moving back as well so we can all help out. But yeah, so that’s the topping on my shit-sundae. I will probably write more on this later, but for now this is all I wish to type on the subject seeing as it sort of deeply depresses me at the moment.

At work tonight I kicked six different people out of the bowling alley. Five of them where because they are idiots and…bah BLAST! I can’t tell you what for or I will get in trouble. I will just say it involved alcohol and people not of age. The last person may or may not have helped himself to coffee and cookies in the restraint then passed out in his house, which doubles as a station-wagon. And the key tie in that brings this whole post full circle? This coffee/cookie bandit was none other than our parking lot fisherman!

Goodnight folks, I’ll be here all week. Tip your waitress.


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