Posts Tagged ‘social cancer’

At some point in the beginning of January Janice at Your Daily Dose said she was going to forego making New Year’s Resolution and instead making monthly resolutions. Jumping at the chance to succeed and rub this success in her face, I agreed to participate. This time, jumping too fast into choosing my resolution, I decided my monthly resolution would be to make a new friend. There was some debate in my head as to what I should make my resolution and this seemed like the best one for the entire world and the least selfish because hey, being friends with me is a gift in itself, right?

Since I couldn’t do this all on my own I enlisted the help of a friend I had not seen in over 3 years. He was a stand-up comedian friend of mine who I had kept in touch with over the years. We’d fill each other in on how our lives were going. Usually it went “Are you happy?” “No. How about you?” “No.” And then we remembered why we became friends in the first place.


(Pretty much us)

We agreed to meet up one night at the place we used to go drinking at after shows or during shows when we were supposed to be outside bugging people in Times Square to buy tickets to see a subpar comedy show. This was a place we had a lot of memories at. One time he ordered quesadillas and they never came after an hour even though the waitress kept saying they were almost ready. This was the same place where a group of 10 drunk guys asked me which waitress I would rather sleep with and in a very philosophical way I broke down how I would sleep with the bustier one but I would marry the thinner more friendly one. They seemed amazed that someone could think so logically about life.

On my way to the bar/restaurant I had hoped to maybe make a friend. I had purposefully given myself some bed head without using any gel so I looked pretty cool. There was a girl on the train with a goofy hat who I think wanted me to talk to her because she sat down near me. If not for the giant red pimple on her chin and the possibility of her being 17 I would have.

When I actually got into New York I had thought maybe I could make a friend walking through Times Square. I had never actually made a friend this way before but I have had great conversations there with strangers. I was at around 47th street when a cute girl leaned in to me.

“Can I ride your face?” she said. Well, no. That’s what I heard. I asked her to repeat it. She tried again and said, “Do you know where the H&M is?” I pondered about it. I had no clue but I’ve learned in New York City you want to pretend like you know your way around. I tried getting more information out of her like if she knew anything it was near. She had no idea. I gave her half-assed directions and she thanked me. I apologized because I hadn’t been to New York in quite some time. Neither had she. I asked where she was from. She was from Edison, New Jersey the town I lived in the first year of my life. We began to talk more and she knew the street I lived on and her dad was actually from the town I live in now. It was weird. It was magical. It was destiny.


(Could it be? Had I made a friend for life?)

“Okay well thanks then. Have a good night.” she said before we even got started on our life together. She was with an even more awkward friend. They continued on in search of their store and I didn’t look back. It wasn’t meant to be. Plus she blinked too much.

I arrived at the bar/restaurant and found my friend outside. I snuck up and smacked him in the head. He told me I 1) looked taller 2) had a less girly/teenager voice 3) seemed more mature. The first thing I did was smack him in the head. How immature did I used to be?


(How I used to be. I’m the pirate in the middle)

We went inside and hopped upstairs where things were less frantic. We sat down and immediately began to check out the room and any potential female suitors. There wasn’t much so we caught up on old times. We whined to each other about other comedians we hate and how unfunny so many of them are. I swear we’d be banned from ever telling a joke ever again if some people heard the honest things we were saying.

Our food arrived, we ate, and I tried figuring out which waitress I should try to befriend. There was the heavyset one who was taller than me. Okay, no way. She could beat me up. Then there was the blonde one who had been doing most of the work for us. She was cute and friendly but had something wrong with her face. Not on my friend’s list missy! Finally there was a small brunette who pretended I didn’t exist except for when my friend got up to use the bathroom. She approached me and said “Hey I didn’t want to do this in front of your friend but can I ride your face?” Actually that’s what I heard. What she really said was “Are you guys doing alright?” So maybe I could look into this deeper and she was offering to sit on my face. I’m not sure. I don’t understand many social cues.

Not long after we left. My buddy was nice enough to walk me 20 blocks down only to find out the station was closed. I walked to two more stations to try finding the train home before finally finding one that was open. I even tried to have a conversation with other people having the same trouble. I said “I think the one on 22nd street is open!” They didn’t say a word. Why am I social cancer?


(This bunny has more shyness than I do and I bet he even would have gotten a response)

I got into the train and on the second stop a girl sat down next to me. There were plenty more open seats (like my face for instance) but she chose to sit to my right. I gave her the creepy man’s test which is to smack my knee into her every so often to see if it scared her off. It didn’t! Had I made a friend? Or had she not really even been thinking about it because the only reason she was sitting next to me was so she could stare at the studly Australian guy sitting across the train car? I’ll never know because what could I have ever said to her, “Hey, I’m going to smack my knee into yours and see if it bothers you”?

Only two days later I no longer felt the immediate need to make a new friend. Making new friends would be nice and I’m still on the lookout, but why do I need to force it? It will happen when it happens. I have other things I’m trying to accomplish right now. Plus, who likes the hero in a story to succeed in the first act? Nobody. Time for round two.

I’ve had to come to terms with a lot of things lately. The one that should have been most obvious is that I am social repellant. Or is it repellents? I’m being told both spellings are correct and I am terribly confused which to use. You might be sitting in your chair or reading this on your phone kicking your kids in the face thinking I’m insane for calling myself social repellant. How can someone so endearing be cancerous to society? I’m just as confused as you are. I’ve got a lot going for me. I’m smart, I remember all the funniest lines from Family Guy and I’m always sure to repeat them over and over again, I eat vegetables, I tell women they look fat when they do, and I never give dogs chocolate. I have “fun person” written all over me! So why is it that I still seem to be a tiki torch to all the mosquitos in the world?

(One time I met Jeff Probst. He clubbed me in the head)

The first time I ever remember being repellant was the second I was born. My parents always wanted a girl because the thrill of throwing a child off a cliff out of disappointment was something lots of parents in the 1980s wanted to experience. Since I had a penis I had to be given medicine to survive. My younger years I didn’t so much feel like I was repellant as much as I felt like kids were dickholes. The only two significant moments I remember from being young and feeling left out were as follows: the first happened during recess and I was the second to last pick and I celebrated not being picked last. My teammates still seemed a little upset and made sure to not throw me the ball. The other happened in 5th grade when I heard the girl I had a crush on say “I want everyone to sign my yearbook except for Tim and Dan.” Dan was the biggest loser anyone knew. He was so lame even when girls insulted him I got to go ahead of him.

As I got older rejection was more common. When we’re young kids we’re forced into accepting everyone. As we get older people have more flaws and they’re easier to pick on. Girls were and still are something I often feel like a bottle of black flag around. There was no particular instance when I felt like the entire female race was out to ignore me but it was a definite feeling. I knew it was getting out of hand when a black girl stood outside my classroom saying “You bitch! I fucking hate you. You suck” and I thought she was talking about me and not the bitch that sucked and everyone fucking hated that sat behind me.

The one moment I always go back to in my head where I felt most like garlic to a vampire or a carbohydrate to a True Blood vampire was one time when I went out in an attempt to be social. It was at a karaoke night at Hoolihan’s restaurant chain. The waitress was very flirty to everyone because she knew them all. I thought “Hey, I’m a new face. She might want to know what I’m all about.” Nope. She didn’t even acknowledge my existence. Someone making $3 an hour plus tips ignored me. I was crushed. I was so crushed I wrote a poem/song about it.

(True Blood vampires shirtless for no real reason at all other than to remind us we’re watching gay porn without penetration)

I was going to post the poem but after reading it it’s a really bad debut poem except for the “chorus.” Since I did want to post some old poetry I wrote at some point I will post something I actually don’t think is half bad. Don’t worry, all my poems/songs I still have saved (all 44 of them) are about rejection, darkness, Satan, and suicide. Oh, happy day. Why did I choose this poem? It has a very good AABBCC flow to it. The other one didn’t rhyme throughout ergo was not as good.

 Better In The Dark (written in 2009)

 I’m the glass spilt over the edge of the table

You’re the electricity running through your copper cable

We’re the fear that causes you to sweat

They’re the face of evil you have not met

When I come around, do I need to bark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.

You’re the object in all of my dreams

We’re the stitches that keep me together at the seams

They’re the hate I desire to want

I’m the wish if I had I would flaunt

When you come around, do you think I will hark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.

We’re the birds that sing in the morning

They’re the heat that gives pain without warning

I’m the love in which we want to share

You’re the tears in the eyes of those without care

When we come around, do we hit the mark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.

They’re the observers of what they cannot believe

I’m the madness that a paranoid mind will weave

You’re the innocence that would never do what we can

We’re the tumble of a broken man

When they come around, do they feel the spark?

I’m a man who looks better, in the dark.