Thursday, August 21, 2008

Native Americans, Cocaine and that Helpless Feeling that Im Getting Old

Interesting title no? I thought so myself.

Native Americans. Thats a term I have always liked because of its "correctness" against the "white man". I hate the term too because it sounds way to PC (politically correct for those not in the know) for me and it actually takes longer to say than just Indian. So basically what Im saying is that I prefer Native American but I use Indian to keep it short and sweet.

Well last night was interesting as hell. I went downtown to meet Jess for dinner and some drinks over at Cecil's on W. Grey and we were having a good night. We invited some fellow surfing friends up there and they came to hang out for a bit. Well, this Indian guy walks up and introduces himself, a pretty nice guy, and challenges for the pool table. No biggie, we wernt even playing. Dez, a friend of Jess and I, takes the offer. Anyways, lets just say some MAJOR miscommunication happens and next thing I know, they are seconds away from blows. The bouncers kick Dez out and I talk with the Indian guy. He is extreamly sorry and is very apologetic and I tell him no worries, it was both parties faults equally but Dez was letting his temper get to him.

Anyways, later that night, the Indian guy buys Jess and I a round for another apologee. As Im closing my tab, I buy him and his cousin a round as a good gesture. We are all shaking hands and thats when he slips me the little baggie of cocaine. Im literally like WTF? We hit the car and check it out, no small baggie either. Jess says street value maybe around $40 but says its a lot to just give someone. We toss it out the window...... YES WE TOSSED IT. I dont fuck with that stuff!

Anyways..... moving on.

I was just sitting here at my desk, thinking about last night, thinking about my future, thinking about Jess and girls in general and thinking about Mexico as I could see one of my pictures on my background. Damn.... Im getting old. Im getting complacent. Im starting to think, yeaaaa screw all that. Ill just stay here and buy a badass boat and maybe a house or something and just settle in, live that "normal" life. Then I think.... "DAVE RICH, WAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?????? QUIT YOUR JOB TOMORROW!!!! GET OUTA HERE! HIT THE ROADS! GO LIVE ON THE RANCH IN MONTANA WITH YOUR GRANDMA! GO SURF YOUR BRAINS OUT!". Im freaking out. .... Its safe to say..... Im feeling another small break down happening. Nothing serious. Ill drink heavily for a few weeks.....do something stupid..... probly get myself in some trouble lol. I dont know. I neeeeeeeed to get the fuck outa here. I only have 8 days of vacation, that SUCKS! I have been saving like crazy for next summer when I will have like 15 and I can take off for Mexico and go surf like a damn madman.

Girlfriends..... .wow. That is just a mess. I have been single for almost 2 yrs now and well.... I duno. Do I give up my freedom? My free weekends where I do whatever the hell I want, which is always sailing and having a good time? Ooooooo and what about money? Im almost debt free and I need to keep saving hard after Im out because I need to start racking that cash up to get outa here. Im proud of myself about getting out of debt so fast but truthfully, I could have done it faster but at the risk of possibly driving myself crazy trying. Its time to get serious...... I gotta get outa here before I loose my mind, my guts, and my freedom.

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