Out of Pod Experience

Parents do the darnedest things. Really, there ought to be a training course or license they have to get. Maybe through an advisory board of senile old easy-going great-grandmas and grandpas.

Long-forgotten rejection tale:
For about 6 months, had been teaching English to every school kid in every school in a village in a country Japan mountain valley. Really kind and generous people, but the attention and lack of privacy were kind of intense.

One day there I met a Japanese-American guy from L.A. there. He had roots in the village, and was trying to learn Japanese and take care of some inherited land.

Another day a while later, my new compatriot bud and I decide to take a bus down the hill to the closest sizable town for some bowling. Yeah, bowling, because we'd both seen the bowling alley along the highway bus route, and it was the only place we could come up with to go to. Lo and behold, inside it's lot like an American bowling alley. Except it has about 30 20-year-old attendants. We get two setting up our scoring computer thing, shoes, etc.

Well, young male American bowlers being a first-time thing for them, and Japanese 20-yr-old bowling attendants being a first-time thing for us, we kind of get interested in each other. Things are going so well for me with one of them that I sort of start getting a high. Sort of a transcendental ardrenalin/satori excited state of mind. I knock down nine pins, leaving the one in the back right corner standing. Hard to pick up for a righty. But no problem, in my highly-charged yet focused bowling attendant state or Zenness, I shave that bastard and topple it.

Friend's two rolls-- don't remember. While he was rolling, my girl gave me number, a twinkling eye, and a naughty smile. I am no longer a novelty foreigner mountain school teacher-- I am a local player! So now I'm just flying in nirvana on hormones, dopamines, oxygen deprivation, or who knows. I just line up my shot, float toward the line, and launch the ball with my mind elsewhere. It musically plucks that left corner pin like a guitar string and sends it over to relaxedly knock down the one on the right.

"How did you do that!! Ha heh heh!" Ha, never mind that! Miracle shots by regular crappy guys out bowling-- pshaw!

OK, here's the rejection part, two days later:
K. Deserters (after some rehearsing, to whomever might pick up the phone, which turned out to be a mom, as feared: "Ah, hello. I would like to speak to Mayumi-san please."
Mom ::strangely amused and nice, as if expecting it:: "Hello, yes, here she is."
Mayumi: "Hello, how are you? It was very nice to meet you. Thank you so much for contacting me again. It's quite cold today, isn't it...? heh"
K. Deserters [soliliquy, to self] WTH, big surprise, ah damn, whatt? I think I get it-- yeah, it is, shot down in flames. Not picking up any miracle spares here after all.

Is that the sound of one hand fapping?

It's alright. I p. much have the same life setup.

"Love is free, giving it doesn't cost anybody a dime. Biscuits and rice run out, but there's no limit on love supply."
-Many poets, blues musicians, poor folk, and Rastafarians

"If someone is doing wrong and hurting you, and you say nothing, you aren't helping them. You're just suffering and letting that person continue on without thinking or changing. If you were important enough in that person's life that they caused you to suffer, why not give them the gift of telling them your true honesty?"
-Paraphrase of the Buddha

"It's better to have loved and lost than not having loved at all."
-? Classic French writer, somebody say who

I know wherefore art thou sibyyl.

it's better to have loved and lost and know it's better to not have loved at all

there. bleeding heart liberals.

it's better to have loved and lost and then play all the EVE you want

it's better to have loved and lost and suddenly have all these extra dollars

why did I ever bother to go through all that trouble for more trouble

My rejection was so bad even this thread rejected it by eating my post

CBA to write it again.

Tilde, I thought I told you go to bed young lady.

Were you up playing Beast Boxing again all night?

Strange did not see r in tittle when i clicked this thread oh well...


as far as rejections goes i cant remember i had any before hooking up there was quite few in days in.

partly because i didn't look bad at all back then and partly dating wasn't high on a to do list i was weird and my priorities were a mess.so when i did get the word that some girl is asking about me if she was hot i did make a move and that turned in disaster more time than not since beside air we shared not much in common,

the first girl i ever truly liked kinda did that to me...we both did it to each other but that was after we started dating she was trouble transferred one class year older...school was mainly girls some 70%-30% and for 4 years in my class alone there was 30 ppl 2 males me included.

i had issues she had more.......

il try to write it up when i don't feel like chew up overworked mess

from that time on i found my self in long term relationships all up till today.

Yus. It's nothing weird, I swear.

Sibs, you wanna grab some dim sum tonight?

One more: My hipster friend and I went to the Starck Club in Dallas. It was the exclusive club there at the time. The owners were supposed to be Grace Jones, some MTV guy one hit wonder reggae-ish guy ("Electric Avenue" was his song), and Dan Akroyd. Anyway, snooty/hipster enough stuff for Dallas at the time.

Bouncers don't want to let us in, because we're poor crap-dressed student nobodies. But I have this U.S. Army winter coat that I'd alternately tie-bleached and Cardinal Red tie-dyed, over a couple of days. It came out not very good, bad, or ugly. But, just weird enough for the bouncers to let us into the posh leet club.

So-- The whole point of going was to see the visiting band The Voice Farm play "Sleep." But instead, it turned into an experience of it being Fairy Tales night, and sharing mirror restrooms with lingerie lesbians and guys with Elvis Costello glasses dressed as Little Bo Peep.

But- The art band wouldn't play "Sleep", even though they were very cool later and told us to look them up in San Francisco. At last, about the only punks (not MTV fashion punks, but real punk aesthetics punks) from the Texas prairies are hanging around lonesome in a dead upstairs corner of club. The sad girl with dreadlocks we've been noticing appears, using the counter of a little shutdown bar to dig through her bag. "Go man, go talk to her, go for it!" Bud does go for it, comes back in a hurry. "Man, that is a guy!" In this case, it was a double surprise double rejection.

And in the end, somebody thought enough of my dyed U.S. Army was coat good enough to steal. Shee-it. Happy trails, my ugly coat, hope somebody served you well!