No, I never owned a blue camaro, or any camaro for that matter. Nor would I ever own a camaro. But I was talking (chatting on FB, nobody talks anymore, talking is so five minutes ago), talking with an old friend lastnight, she was a high school girlfriend. And no, this is nothing sinister or anything. We got caught up a few years ago on some group email and we've stayed in touch, vaguely. That is to say that i talked to her on the phone about 3 years ago, just the one time, and we've exchanged some emails every couple of months. She's happily married for a long time now, and she actually helped me rent my old house, since that's the sort of world she works in...rental property. Anyhow, i was on FB snooping at someone's pictures. SIDEBAR-- Ok, I criticize Facebook all the time. I do. But I look at it every night. It's fascinating to see names and then pictures of people i haven't seen nor heard about in 20 years or more. I've never typed a word into FB, just put pics of my girls and looked at other people's pics. It's like an addiction. Some people play games or poker, and hey thats cool. And Kelli, thats her name, Kelli says its relaxing after a long day at the office to come home and "grease some mobsters" on Mafia Wars. Hey man, i dig it. Not going to criticize that. But I find it interesting that some people need to write the stupidest, most mundane details about their life, or their day and push it out to all the people that are their "Friends". Who cares if you're having a good day, or your going shopping? Not me...shut the hell up. But anyhoo, i digress.
So in chatting with Kelli, we remembered a time when i got beat up by some assholes in a blue camaro, in my own front yard. Here's the breakdown... Kelli was driving us because she had a corvette, and all corvette people must drive wherever they go, it's a rule or something in the "Corvette People Handbook". It actually is a rule, I've read it. So there we were, she driving me home, and I couldn't remember where we had been, she thinks it was a party, but who knows, and more importantly..irrelevent. So this group of guys in the blue camaro are like driving up on her side and ogling her, she's oblivioius as all hot chicks should be, which i find refreshing. So then, they pull up on my side and they're giving me the badass "what the hell are you doing with her" looks. and I don't know what to do, our windows are up, so I just sort of gesture, like I'm with her, you're not. I raised my hands up and and kind of presented her, as if to say "Look, she's here with me". And the light turned green and we went straight and they turned right. But then they circled around and caught up to us. We said our goodnights in my parents driveway, kissed and I hopped out of the car. The driver of the blue camaro stopped in the street. He rolled down his window and asked why i flipped them off. I started walking toward the street saying "I didn't flip you off" at the same time putting my pack of cigarettes into my back pocket. I heard a voice from the back seat say "he's got a knife" and I quickly held up my smokes to show them, but it was too late. All four jumped out of the car in a flash and at first I thought I could out run them, but I was a little drunk I guess and they were close, and they'd had the jump on me, I was more shocked than anything. One had an aluminum baseball bat, one had brass knuckles and the other two I never saw if they had anything. I made it to my neighbors yard before the bat hit me in the ribs, and down I went. I immediatley curled into a ball and tried to protect my head from getting bashed in. Kelli stayed in the car blowing her horn. They kicked me a little, punched me a little and hit me with the bat one more time. And then they started to go away. It was all over in about a minute.
As they were walking away, I heard one of them say "that's how you jump somebody!" and I immediately said "There's fucking FOUR of you!" and they just drove away. Kelli got out and we went into my parents house and called the cops. The cops came and filled out a report and we never heard another thing about it. Assholes.
And so that's the story of me getting jumped in my driveway. But in our chat last night, Kelli said the strangest thing. She said that she still has nightmares about that night. I was kind of surprised that she said that. I even asked her "still?" and she said yes. It's kind of sweet in a way, no? I don't have nightmares about it, and I don't think I ever really did. But maybe it was more scarring for her watching it than it was for me actually going through it. When it was over, it was over. I survived but maybe she had that feeling of helplessness, of not being able to stop something that was happening in front of her eyes. I agree that that is a terrible feeling.
I don't know how Kelli really "is" these days. She seems to have a good life, and I hope she does. Her kids seem well, and her marriage seems strong. But I realize that each of us has our own struggles, our own demons, our own things that wake us up in the middle of the night. I cared for her a million years ago, and I still do actually, but not in the way that I did back then. I care for her soul, for her well being, for her peace. There's been alot of shit that we've had to deal with in the the twenty years or so since we were boyfriend and girlfriend. The world is a funny place. The world is a strange place. Life is hard, no matter how things appear on the outside. We all have those demons and we all have our own ways of dealing with them. And what I've realized through our chat, and through this memory of the guys in the blue camaro is that memories are who we are, not just who we were or what we did. They are the things that make us, that create us, that bind our physical and mental worlds so that we can build upon those things. And in the end, that's who we are. We are the sum total of all of our parts. And even though there've been plenty of terrible things in my life, in Kelli's life, in you dear reader's life, we should always try to remember the things that stand out, to make them worth the pain and the suffering. Me getting jumped in my front yard was not that big a deal to me, but seems as though it was a bigger deal to Kelli. It's funny how the same incident between two people manifests itself so differently in each of our minds.
Today, I like the story of me getting jumped by those assholes in the blue camaro. I like that I survived, I like that I feel stronger knowing that I survived. I like that it is a part of me. And knowing that it's part of my past, realizing that it has affected me in life, which means that it's a part of my future too. I hope Kelli never has another nightmare on account of me. But if she does, if you do Kelli, know I'm just fine. I survived that night, we survived. They could've killed me, and you too. But they didn't and we're stronger because of it.
Have I mentioned that I'd never own a camaro? Those guys were cheesy, trashy, camaro driving hoods. They're probably dead or in jail. I hope that that night affected them too. But since I feel superior to them, I actually can't believe it did much for them. Anyhow, I don't wish them ill, I'm just glad they didn't finish the job on me or Kelli that night. Assholes.
So in chatting with Kelli, we remembered a time when i got beat up by some assholes in a blue camaro, in my own front yard. Here's the breakdown... Kelli was driving us because she had a corvette, and all corvette people must drive wherever they go, it's a rule or something in the "Corvette People Handbook". It actually is a rule, I've read it. So there we were, she driving me home, and I couldn't remember where we had been, she thinks it was a party, but who knows, and more importantly..irrelevent. So this group of guys in the blue camaro are like driving up on her side and ogling her, she's oblivioius as all hot chicks should be, which i find refreshing. So then, they pull up on my side and they're giving me the badass "what the hell are you doing with her" looks. and I don't know what to do, our windows are up, so I just sort of gesture, like I'm with her, you're not. I raised my hands up and and kind of presented her, as if to say "Look, she's here with me". And the light turned green and we went straight and they turned right. But then they circled around and caught up to us. We said our goodnights in my parents driveway, kissed and I hopped out of the car. The driver of the blue camaro stopped in the street. He rolled down his window and asked why i flipped them off. I started walking toward the street saying "I didn't flip you off" at the same time putting my pack of cigarettes into my back pocket. I heard a voice from the back seat say "he's got a knife" and I quickly held up my smokes to show them, but it was too late. All four jumped out of the car in a flash and at first I thought I could out run them, but I was a little drunk I guess and they were close, and they'd had the jump on me, I was more shocked than anything. One had an aluminum baseball bat, one had brass knuckles and the other two I never saw if they had anything. I made it to my neighbors yard before the bat hit me in the ribs, and down I went. I immediatley curled into a ball and tried to protect my head from getting bashed in. Kelli stayed in the car blowing her horn. They kicked me a little, punched me a little and hit me with the bat one more time. And then they started to go away. It was all over in about a minute.
As they were walking away, I heard one of them say "that's how you jump somebody!" and I immediately said "There's fucking FOUR of you!" and they just drove away. Kelli got out and we went into my parents house and called the cops. The cops came and filled out a report and we never heard another thing about it. Assholes.
And so that's the story of me getting jumped in my driveway. But in our chat last night, Kelli said the strangest thing. She said that she still has nightmares about that night. I was kind of surprised that she said that. I even asked her "still?" and she said yes. It's kind of sweet in a way, no? I don't have nightmares about it, and I don't think I ever really did. But maybe it was more scarring for her watching it than it was for me actually going through it. When it was over, it was over. I survived but maybe she had that feeling of helplessness, of not being able to stop something that was happening in front of her eyes. I agree that that is a terrible feeling.
I don't know how Kelli really "is" these days. She seems to have a good life, and I hope she does. Her kids seem well, and her marriage seems strong. But I realize that each of us has our own struggles, our own demons, our own things that wake us up in the middle of the night. I cared for her a million years ago, and I still do actually, but not in the way that I did back then. I care for her soul, for her well being, for her peace. There's been alot of shit that we've had to deal with in the the twenty years or so since we were boyfriend and girlfriend. The world is a funny place. The world is a strange place. Life is hard, no matter how things appear on the outside. We all have those demons and we all have our own ways of dealing with them. And what I've realized through our chat, and through this memory of the guys in the blue camaro is that memories are who we are, not just who we were or what we did. They are the things that make us, that create us, that bind our physical and mental worlds so that we can build upon those things. And in the end, that's who we are. We are the sum total of all of our parts. And even though there've been plenty of terrible things in my life, in Kelli's life, in you dear reader's life, we should always try to remember the things that stand out, to make them worth the pain and the suffering. Me getting jumped in my front yard was not that big a deal to me, but seems as though it was a bigger deal to Kelli. It's funny how the same incident between two people manifests itself so differently in each of our minds.
Today, I like the story of me getting jumped by those assholes in the blue camaro. I like that I survived, I like that I feel stronger knowing that I survived. I like that it is a part of me. And knowing that it's part of my past, realizing that it has affected me in life, which means that it's a part of my future too. I hope Kelli never has another nightmare on account of me. But if she does, if you do Kelli, know I'm just fine. I survived that night, we survived. They could've killed me, and you too. But they didn't and we're stronger because of it.
Have I mentioned that I'd never own a camaro? Those guys were cheesy, trashy, camaro driving hoods. They're probably dead or in jail. I hope that that night affected them too. But since I feel superior to them, I actually can't believe it did much for them. Anyhow, I don't wish them ill, I'm just glad they didn't finish the job on me or Kelli that night. Assholes.
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