WARNING THIS IS LONG AND SOMEWHAT POINTLESS ... might be entertaining though I was a security guard, I was the guy with the flash light and the big ring of keys. At 17 I had grown a beard, and started seriously drinking. My best friend at the time and musical collaborator had finished school, he had worked for Price Waterhouse the summer before and had saved quite allot of money. Money that by October had been delegated solely to our consuming passion in life, drinking (please excuse the Bukowski-isms... it's hard to talk about those days without sounding a bit like Buk, at that point we were walking talking cliché's). i decided that dropping out of school (grade 11) would probably be the best option because it would allow more time for drinking, and seeing as I wasn't really going any more anyhow it wasn't a very big surprise to anyone. Times were good, our girlfriends were both lovely rich girls from the region just north of us. they loved our deep worldly ways... convincing these lovely ladies to stay with us was not a difficult task. My friend's girlfriend was particularly rich, her father owned a successful logistics company or something. Anyhow, her father hated my friend and forced her to either give him up or leave the bounty that was his parental love. So she packed her bags and moved in with Brandon (my friend). She got a job at a trendy yuppie coffee bar some distance from Brandon's house. So every morning at 5:30am he would get up and drive her to work, she would make us egg salad sandwiches and send him on his merry way. He would then drive directly to my house, let himself in, crash out on my couch until things were moving again. We would sit around and drink most of the day (or what remained of it after we ourselves go moving)we were supposed to be recording an album on a lent four track. I don't think we ever completed a song, the songs all went like this; verse, verse, verse. After we had written a verse we would celebrate our genius... until the genius was drunk as well and so was the drive. By 4:30 his girlfriend would finish work, we would swing by (always about half an hour late) steal the expensive sweet iced capochino drinks, grab a sandwich and her. After which we would proceed to my girlfriends house and back to my house. By this point in the day (around 5:30pm) Brandon and I would be quite loaded. We would have horrible arguments with our respective girlfriends usually trading days of the week. I have never met crueler people than we were in those days. We would get drunk and just fuck with those poor girl's heads... neither of them meant anything to us, actually I shouldn't say that, I was quite in love with Brandon's girlfriend and took many opportunities to take her off his hands for a night so he could get some "rest". Which meant that he could sleep with the a barmaid that gave us double shots for singles. After a dinner of stolen sandwiches and frappachino's we would head for the local bar which was conveniently located down the street from my house... of course we never walked, we might need the car for the after hours clubs downtown.We typically closed the bar, we rarely got cut off. if we did we'd go to another bar (sometimes it was difficult task as I was underage at the time). After 2:00am (last call in Toronto) we would either head out for more drinks (afterhours clubs in Toronto resemble crack houses more than bars, people railing lines off of the table and whatnot) or leave the bar only to come back after the owner had left, to drink with some of the staff. we would usually go until 4:00 or 4:30 and come home for sleep or to wait out the time until Brandon had to go drive his girlfriend to work. We had goals at one point, an album, a book, a film but nothing ever really materialized. I found another girl that frequented the bar her hips popped when she had sex.. she was considerably older than I... divorcee and all of that. She slowly replaced my high school girlfriend. It took about 6 months to spend the $10,000 that Brandon had made that summer before. Brandon's girlfriend paid his rent after she moved in, and I was living rent free in my parents basement. they didn't seem to mind the way things were going, although I don't think they really knew. I was very careful to only be at home when they were either asleep or at work. I only saw them the odd time when they were leaving for work in the morning and I had misjudged the time or what time was all together. Brandon and I had decided that we were moving to Europe. For some reason it just seemed that we belonged there. All of the cool people lived there, and the people that hassled us were simply not clued in to our open and free bohemian life style... people would never hassle us there. I decided that in order to get to Europe I would need some of my own money. I looked and looked for a job but to no avail. finally I met a guy at the bar that was a recruiter for a security company downtown. He said I looked like I could handle my self (I'm 6' tall and 240lbs). He told me to show up the following morning and he would give me an interview. he took to me immediately and I showed up on time ("the key to being a security guard" he said "is to always be on time, you can show up drunk, you can smoke dope, you can sleep.. the only thing you have to do is be ON TIME"). I got the job. once I started working Brandon wasn't too far behind. He got a job working as a sales clerk at a computer mega-store. Eventually we grew apart. It got to the point where I started looking at my surroundings.. the people I worked with and I realized "these people are losers, they are morons, they should all be put down". After that it didn't take too long for me to realized that I was one of them. I was 18 at this point I had been out of school for a year. I looked like I was 40. By Christmas I was out of the Security business and back in high school at 19. I finished my diploma and headed out to the work force (after touring the USA playing trumpet in a Big Band, another story for another time). I now work in a Big building downtown, and I'm now one of the guy's that I used to say "yes sir" to. Brandon did end up going to England. I've started talking to him again via e-mail, he's the night manager of some hotel in Bath. he is apparently coming back to Canada this summer... where we may actually end finishing some music. We are both full out pot-heads now... but hey, if it's not one thing it's the other. When I started this there was a point..... ah yes. I found very hard to give up on my dream of moving to Europe to become some sort of neo/anti beatnik. After reading that post about how dreams die and how do you let go. It got me thinking. I have never been comfortable since I started office work. I don't belong here these are not my type of people... I think I need a change, I think I need to get away, go somewhere interesting. They say you can never run away from your self.. I just think those people just haven't figured it out yet... it's all about the race. I think I have matured somewhat, particularly in my relationships with women. of all things I did in those days, ruining those poor girls is the part I regret the most. they really did love us. We didn't love them at one point, but in the end we just said we did to keep them around, free sandwiches, rent and all. I'm not so sure who got fucked more in the end. if you've read this far I commend you... I meant for this to be a few sentences about dreams. If you did read this far and are pissed you did.. well alright lets talk about that. Some of you people are far too shy, let me have it... again I'm really sorry, Jason +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ "sick posse of f**ked in the head psycho-fans" - NME June 2001 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-+ Snipp snapp snut, sa var sagan slut! +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+