When it rains it pours...gravy.
Turn on any channel today, stream any video today and you'll surely get a rebuttal on the human condition lately. Stories of broken spirits, actions undue and inaction far worse. One dangerous phrase of such conversation is the rabbit hole of, back in my day. Welp, deep breath, exhale slowly because as a matter of fact, back in my day I could argue people are innately good. Insert any generic cliché phrase about walking uphill in the snow both ways made me a better person. Yet here I am about to digress into aforementioned clichés. Ready... set....let’s uphill snow!
At some point in time the internet was groups of chatrooms, cell phones were for just calls and GPS were just letters in the alphabet. Somehow in the middle of that akward moment in our evolutionary history I became a door to door salesmen. for college credit. which I never turned in the paper work to receive. and in which I never even finished. But in that moment at a ripe age of 19 I had lofty dreams, not quite dampened by society, and/or loads alcohol. As glorious as being a door to door salesmen may sound, I'll ask you to pump your brakes because it was even better slumming it in Alabama and Georgia. In the middle of the summer. Carrying around a bag filled with 50 pounds of books (that today a simple watch can find out, also let us pretend alexa hasn't outdated a book filled with indexes and glossaries.) So back to lugging around a huge backpack filled with books and binders, badly drawn maps jumping in and out of a hot car, slowly smelling of swamp ass with a sprinkle of dirty sock. All in all most days was pleasant enough but when it rained that could not just dampen my button up polo but the spirit as well. On one particular day it rained. hard. a lot. constantly. and if there's one thing a chubby 19 year old hates, it's a wet shirt sticking to every curve of his quite curvy body. And there I was at a doorway, looking like that drunk girl in every teen movie that gets pushed into a pool. Wet. (just a fun word to type in a sentence alone)
Before all that though, this was not just some house a randomly stumbled upon 6 oclock at night soaking wet, I had stumbled upon this house at like 9am in the morning, up a giant hill and deep within a wooded area. Ripe spot for bodies to be thrown into and never seen again, I was naïve and just nerdy enough to think I'd be ok. Also I was way too chubby to be kidnapped, unless they were on their squat game at the gym. Needless to say at 9am no person in their right mind would tell me to come in to preach the good word of the dictionary, and the nice enough lady said come back that night because her husband makes all those decisions, cmon lady its the 21st century no man has to dictate your life, also as a salesmen its just more efficient to tell me No then and there, no repeat trips were good for business. Alas I came back, that night, in the rain, lugging two midgets in a backpack, looking like a sad sack of donuts and cokes. Knock three times, and she answers, takes one look at my sad self, ushers me inside faster then an Alabama mosquito. (which in an unrelated story had one not just sting me in the eyeball but get stuck in there for good measure that summer). Two steps in the house she asks if I wanted to dry my clothes, and before I could answer she was dragging me to the restroom. Tells me to take a shower and she'd throw my clothes in the dryer. A normal minded human would question this moment in their life, I on the other hand said sure why not, I could use a hot shower. So here I am in a random persons bathroom nekked, showering with their soap, wet again. Never once did I think this was how some scary movie would end. Mid shower the mom states the dryer is taking longer then she thought and said I could probably fit in her son's clothes. Throws them in the bathroom. There are moments in life where one could say "How many decisions did I have to make to get me to this point?" while I'm standing in front of the bathroom mirror wearing some strangers underwear, I had to say Yes to many decisions to get there. With some kids underwear, shorts and shirt clinging to my body (her son was not my size but whatever dignity I may have thought I had was long gone by that point). Fully clothed now albeit not mine I was ready to start my book pitch, I mean I had better make a sale for all this craziness. Wasn't going to happen at that moment because everyone in the family was at the dinner table waiting for me to join the feast. Fat boys don't turn down food, ever. Like ever. As I munch on potatoes and gravy, the family turns out to be great. Home schooling their son, who was on his way to be a pro-am golfer (made sense as my love handles were very much holding tightly onto what was his shirt). They were happy to see me with the books because as they explained the home schooling aspects to me and how expensive it can be, my books were very reasonable and could help them teach the whole family. The dryer dings, dinner is over, my newly dried clothes shoved into a trash bag, and a belly full of some much needed home cooked food, I was very happy and felt incredibly grateful. They kept reassuring me I could keep the clothes, though I think they realized they would have to cut it off me #my600poundlife. I walked out of that house feeling so full of love, proud almost to see families working hard to be happy and live it to the fullest. The human spirit is strong, when we shut down preconceived notions and not only that but accept the ability to say Yes, allowing the ability to be selfless. Many times we move throughout the day unwittingly saying No just by the pace we choose to live by, that summer time slowed down and I was at the mercy of people I didn't know behind every door. One learns to say Yes, one learns the value of a slow walk through an entryway.
So I said when it RAINS, it pours, implying that more.
About a week later, I was down a car that would eventually be towed away from a 7/11 parking lot cracked engine and all. So now I was officially an old fashioned door to door salesmen, lugging it Jesus style. This particular week I found a crack in a golf course gated community housing area and I was making it my home. Walking the course, playing in the parks, occasionally knocking on a door when the moment arises. But for the most part, rich people said no and I found most of my time occupied writing in my journal on the side of the road. As the cloud started to build and the sky getting greyer, I had to find a honey hole for a few hours until 9pm when my ride picked me up. The best I could do was a house for sale that had a cement bench in the front underneath what could only be described as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree of shade. The cement bench was sturdy though and I figured i'd hide my head under it, if it started to hail, or maybe the 50 pound backpack could protect my head, who knows. Sitting there, writing, pulling my best Jack Kerouac Impression across the court a SUV pulls into the garage. As it was coming I could see the face look at me the whole time. It pulls in and before the garage door begins to slide down, I see a woman's face quickly pop out, look at me and immediately pop back in. Nice neighborhood, golf course living, affluent people I figured best time to start gathering my things before this lady called the cops on the most unintimidating teenager they'd ever see. But before I could even get my journal to my bag, she pops out the front door and Yells for me to run inside the house before it starts to rain and that I was crazy to be outside at this time. Who am I to say No to a woman's yell. I hurdle into this very attractive young ladies house. I tell her what I'm doing (I mean hell maybe I could sell a book at least), she wasn't having it she had no kids and she needed to start cooking dinner. I go and sit down on the couch and she tells me to turn on the TV and watch whatever. I pop on TNT and sit there patiently waiting for 8 O'clock, it was a long walk uphill and my fatass needed a hour to make it by 9. A few minutes later, The front door opens and in walks a man. stops. stares. looks puzzled. Opens mouth, immediately closes it. Walks to the kitchen for what I imagine was a very wild conversations of what the hell is going on. A few minutes later, he sits down next to me on the couch. Watching Men In Black with me. We eat dinner mashed potatoes and yes you guessed it gravy. All three of us on this couch, watching Men In Black on TNT. Until 9 o'clock in which he drives me in his hummer to the entrance of the gated community. Drops me off. Never to be seen again.
So when I say when it Rains it pours...gravy it. really. does.
At some point in time the internet was groups of chatrooms, cell phones were for just calls and GPS were just letters in the alphabet. Somehow in the middle of that akward moment in our evolutionary history I became a door to door salesmen. for college credit. which I never turned in the paper work to receive. and in which I never even finished. But in that moment at a ripe age of 19 I had lofty dreams, not quite dampened by society, and/or loads alcohol. As glorious as being a door to door salesmen may sound, I'll ask you to pump your brakes because it was even better slumming it in Alabama and Georgia. In the middle of the summer. Carrying around a bag filled with 50 pounds of books (that today a simple watch can find out, also let us pretend alexa hasn't outdated a book filled with indexes and glossaries.) So back to lugging around a huge backpack filled with books and binders, badly drawn maps jumping in and out of a hot car, slowly smelling of swamp ass with a sprinkle of dirty sock. All in all most days was pleasant enough but when it rained that could not just dampen my button up polo but the spirit as well. On one particular day it rained. hard. a lot. constantly. and if there's one thing a chubby 19 year old hates, it's a wet shirt sticking to every curve of his quite curvy body. And there I was at a doorway, looking like that drunk girl in every teen movie that gets pushed into a pool. Wet. (just a fun word to type in a sentence alone)
Before all that though, this was not just some house a randomly stumbled upon 6 oclock at night soaking wet, I had stumbled upon this house at like 9am in the morning, up a giant hill and deep within a wooded area. Ripe spot for bodies to be thrown into and never seen again, I was naïve and just nerdy enough to think I'd be ok. Also I was way too chubby to be kidnapped, unless they were on their squat game at the gym. Needless to say at 9am no person in their right mind would tell me to come in to preach the good word of the dictionary, and the nice enough lady said come back that night because her husband makes all those decisions, cmon lady its the 21st century no man has to dictate your life, also as a salesmen its just more efficient to tell me No then and there, no repeat trips were good for business. Alas I came back, that night, in the rain, lugging two midgets in a backpack, looking like a sad sack of donuts and cokes. Knock three times, and she answers, takes one look at my sad self, ushers me inside faster then an Alabama mosquito. (which in an unrelated story had one not just sting me in the eyeball but get stuck in there for good measure that summer). Two steps in the house she asks if I wanted to dry my clothes, and before I could answer she was dragging me to the restroom. Tells me to take a shower and she'd throw my clothes in the dryer. A normal minded human would question this moment in their life, I on the other hand said sure why not, I could use a hot shower. So here I am in a random persons bathroom nekked, showering with their soap, wet again. Never once did I think this was how some scary movie would end. Mid shower the mom states the dryer is taking longer then she thought and said I could probably fit in her son's clothes. Throws them in the bathroom. There are moments in life where one could say "How many decisions did I have to make to get me to this point?" while I'm standing in front of the bathroom mirror wearing some strangers underwear, I had to say Yes to many decisions to get there. With some kids underwear, shorts and shirt clinging to my body (her son was not my size but whatever dignity I may have thought I had was long gone by that point). Fully clothed now albeit not mine I was ready to start my book pitch, I mean I had better make a sale for all this craziness. Wasn't going to happen at that moment because everyone in the family was at the dinner table waiting for me to join the feast. Fat boys don't turn down food, ever. Like ever. As I munch on potatoes and gravy, the family turns out to be great. Home schooling their son, who was on his way to be a pro-am golfer (made sense as my love handles were very much holding tightly onto what was his shirt). They were happy to see me with the books because as they explained the home schooling aspects to me and how expensive it can be, my books were very reasonable and could help them teach the whole family. The dryer dings, dinner is over, my newly dried clothes shoved into a trash bag, and a belly full of some much needed home cooked food, I was very happy and felt incredibly grateful. They kept reassuring me I could keep the clothes, though I think they realized they would have to cut it off me #my600poundlife. I walked out of that house feeling so full of love, proud almost to see families working hard to be happy and live it to the fullest. The human spirit is strong, when we shut down preconceived notions and not only that but accept the ability to say Yes, allowing the ability to be selfless. Many times we move throughout the day unwittingly saying No just by the pace we choose to live by, that summer time slowed down and I was at the mercy of people I didn't know behind every door. One learns to say Yes, one learns the value of a slow walk through an entryway.
So I said when it RAINS, it pours, implying that more.
About a week later, I was down a car that would eventually be towed away from a 7/11 parking lot cracked engine and all. So now I was officially an old fashioned door to door salesmen, lugging it Jesus style. This particular week I found a crack in a golf course gated community housing area and I was making it my home. Walking the course, playing in the parks, occasionally knocking on a door when the moment arises. But for the most part, rich people said no and I found most of my time occupied writing in my journal on the side of the road. As the cloud started to build and the sky getting greyer, I had to find a honey hole for a few hours until 9pm when my ride picked me up. The best I could do was a house for sale that had a cement bench in the front underneath what could only be described as a Charlie Brown Christmas tree of shade. The cement bench was sturdy though and I figured i'd hide my head under it, if it started to hail, or maybe the 50 pound backpack could protect my head, who knows. Sitting there, writing, pulling my best Jack Kerouac Impression across the court a SUV pulls into the garage. As it was coming I could see the face look at me the whole time. It pulls in and before the garage door begins to slide down, I see a woman's face quickly pop out, look at me and immediately pop back in. Nice neighborhood, golf course living, affluent people I figured best time to start gathering my things before this lady called the cops on the most unintimidating teenager they'd ever see. But before I could even get my journal to my bag, she pops out the front door and Yells for me to run inside the house before it starts to rain and that I was crazy to be outside at this time. Who am I to say No to a woman's yell. I hurdle into this very attractive young ladies house. I tell her what I'm doing (I mean hell maybe I could sell a book at least), she wasn't having it she had no kids and she needed to start cooking dinner. I go and sit down on the couch and she tells me to turn on the TV and watch whatever. I pop on TNT and sit there patiently waiting for 8 O'clock, it was a long walk uphill and my fatass needed a hour to make it by 9. A few minutes later, The front door opens and in walks a man. stops. stares. looks puzzled. Opens mouth, immediately closes it. Walks to the kitchen for what I imagine was a very wild conversations of what the hell is going on. A few minutes later, he sits down next to me on the couch. Watching Men In Black with me. We eat dinner mashed potatoes and yes you guessed it gravy. All three of us on this couch, watching Men In Black on TNT. Until 9 o'clock in which he drives me in his hummer to the entrance of the gated community. Drops me off. Never to be seen again.
So when I say when it Rains it pours...gravy it. really. does.
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