Fo those loved, hated, and the weather

I don't belive in best friends, I just know that there are people who know me better than others. Some of them 'friendly' and others not so 'friendly'; but overall it's just a matter of that stranger who I ave history with.

When In London

***Something made me feel like I should write a story with these characters...strange huh***    


     David waved at the dim visual of Sophie through the foggy window of the black train. The rain was starting to get through his clothes and he was starting to get a chill, that chill he had for most of his life. He was still gripping her number tight in his hands and he quickly tucked it into his jacket pocket, after doing so quickly walked in the direction she had pointed him to for him to reach his destination. He had so many things going through his mind: How did he look? She looked amazing; how is her book coming along? Is she still writing? Maybe she is a journalist; is she married? Children? They were only in their mid-twenties but she very well could have gotten engaged. Most of these questions were quickly pushed aside as he reached his destination.

     The lights were very dull, they didn’t enlighten the grass green walls or the horrid looking retro couches, retro floors, and pretty much retro design of the building. David though about this as h sat in the ugly purple chair, it reminded him of something Yoda would sit in in Star Wars. A woman’s voice flew across the waiting room:

“They are ready for you now Mr. Loroso”

     ‘LOROSO?’ why was his last name so hard to pronounce he said to himself. L-O-R-S-O, where is she getting the other O? David threw that in the back of his head and followed the chubby blonde up the already retro-stairs of the building. She guided him to a room and opened it…

“Sir, David Loroso is here”

“Ahhh thank you Sheryl, please please sit down Mr…Lo-rso?”

     David was happy the rain wasn’t as bad as it was when he went into the building. He looked at his list of things he needed to have completed:

1)      Buy a suit

2)      Get a haircut

3)      Call Jim Brudes about story

     He breathed in, did he really have to get a haircut? He reached his hotel and paid the taxi driver his last amount of wallet money and started walking towards the front door. Robert, the door man opened it up for him and showed his bright gold teeth. Brits and their teeth, David thought. And after thinking chuckling to himself in the elevator he remembered a joke…

Oh what was it, let’s see… oh yes: welcome to England next dentist 3 countries over!

     The elevator opened and he reached his floor, he was tired and ready for sleep. He opened his hotel door and instantly jumped right on his bed. He took off his jacket and his shirt and laid n his head on the head board. His mind was taken. He opened his eyes and jumped out of bed. He looked in his suitcase for his laptop and followed the steps for Wi-Fi. After the internet was up he quickly went on Facebook. A few notifications from Aaron and the guys from back home, nothing too important. Evan had sent him a message: “Check email” After reading David had opened up a new tab. Checking his email he saw his unread email  from Evan saying that they had finished mixing down their album from their band. He wanted David to do some last minute checks to make sure everything was good. After starting the album David went back to the Facebook tab to X-out, however, before he did he typed in a name: Sophia Coberts. He looked at her profile picture, she was smiling and she seemed very happy. Just as happy as she seemed when he ran into her that day. How strange, their memories seemed so long ago yet, he could play them in his head like a movie. Every event: first kiss in front of a blowup snow man singing obnoxious Christmas tunes, Valentine’s Day and the day they broke up, the day they stopped being friends, and the day they decided to move on. He must have been thinking very hard because the next thing he thought about was waking up.

     It had been almost a week since he had arrived in London and had gotten the job of screenplay writer for a chief executive producer. He just walked out of the barbers and was looking at his hair in a reflection of a small car when the Peanuts Theme rang through his coat. He quickly answered his phone.

“Ok listen I need the rough draft of this film DONE by Monday, you got that?”

     His boss then hung up the phone and David was standing still trying to comprehend what had just happened. His boss is what you call ‘AN ASSHOLE’ he couldn’t write, act, direct for shit, in fact David thought the only good thing he was good at what yelling. He kept walking towards the direction hat his hotel was when he noticed the suit shop on the other side of the busy road. He hesitated for a slight minute and figured he get it all done before his meeting on Monday.

     After saying high to Carl, the other doorman, he entered the elevator with a small chubby blond and his oversized mom. Every other second David would try to guess their weight and add it to the 1000lb that was allowed on an elevator. After reaching his floor he opened his room and through his suut, jacket, and shirt on his bed before turning to his laptop sitting on the desk next to the mini fridge. His neighbors were having sex in the next room, and he must have been equipped, either that or she was giving birth, every so often she would orgasm and David continued to type.

     The clock said it was 2am and David didn’t want to sleep, but he also didn’t want to keep typing. He tried listening for his neighbors for his own amusement but they were already in bed, he looked at the mini fridge but nothing good. Out of sheer boredom he looked at his new suits on the bed. He thought for a while and got up; he started folding the clothes and putting them in the drawers. He also grabbed his jacket from the floor, and as he did a white piece of paper fell out. H nelt over and grabbed it. He read: “Sophie’s number…” He thought about it for a while and then grabbed his phone. The last time he called her was in high school for some newspaper planning and scheduling due dates for issues. The phone rang a few times and then reached the answering machine:

-Hey this is Sophie, sorry I couldn’t get to the phone; leave me a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can, thanks…bye

“Hey Sophie, it’s me David, from the train station…well from school but we saw each other at the station. Sorry it’s taken me almost a week to get back to you. I have been really swamped lately and I just felt like calling. Not sure if you will get this but if you do give me a call, I can’t sleep and yeah…anyway bye!”

     He set the phone next to the laptop and continued to type. He felt good.

PALE BLUE DOT

I take a look at my problems, my stuggles...my complete trouble with caring what people think, looking for another struggle to over come, a new person to argue with. I think of our troubles as a nation. Our hatred of republicans, our hatred... of democrates, why? Why cant the spectrum in the middle be more and more common? I think of our past and why we as a nation had to see such hate, why whites had to make themselves better than other races, why christians jews and islamic people can't celebrate this thing called humanity....You see, when you think of it...that stuff doesn't matter, we are simply a pale blue dot on the map of our galaxy. From there is doesn't matter what type of rainforest we are distroying, or our obsession with nationalisim, dictators who planted their name, people who died for their beliefs, groups who rebelled against their rulers, from there everything is as simple as a small little dot...that all we need to think. my english teacher showed this to our class and i think everyone should see this!!

My mom sings about how stinky my dog is, and how she is going to give him away. She leaves her night shift nursing job to a day job which involves cleaning up after my dad, my brother, and my dog, not me because I am the purfect child. My mom likes to blast mexican, hiphop, and old funk music while she is cleaning, cooking, and driving. She changes the channels in my car to all the dumb stations a...nd she also fights the bad guys in movies where the bad guy is a jerk. "Oh I would kick that fuckers ass" or "kick him, punch him, kick him punch him!" Almost like she is giving the director advice. She got me obsessed with matching my clothes, cleaning my ears, and sticking up for the underdog. She has no idea what she is talking about when she talks about racial problems, history, the troubles with terrisim, the economy, political or heath, but she insist on lecturing me and my brother on those topics while on a long drive. Most important my mom has taught me to love every part of a person, to give the finger to that bully who just doesnt 'get it', she taught me how to treat a woman and how to be a man. She was there when no one else was. Every morning after coming home from work she tells me how handsome I look before leaving off to school. I get all my best looks from her, thank you mom, you drive be fucking insane...but I love you. Happy Mother's Day....