November 14, 2013
Still at the hostel. It’s been good being here, being in Boston. Everyone thinks I’m a foreigner though, a cowboy, because I wear my Eastwood and Stepping Wolves. Then I talk and they know I’m local. I’m thinking that the real cowboys wear different kinds of cowboy hats, but whatever. I was at the common, sitting on a bench with Gary Oldman (II) having some roasted almonds from the vendor, and these girls, I guessed they were Emerson girls, sat down going “awwwwww” over Gary Oldman (II) not me.
Wait, step back. I took Gary Oldman (II) when I left home. Packed her food and everything. At home, she uses a litterbox when I’m gone all day, but otherwise I take her out like a dog, and I’m trying to train her to use the toilet. I had to have her in her carrier on the train. Good thing I brought it, because I figured as much. She doesn’t mind it, especially in the cold, because it keeps her warm. Good thing she’s a registered service animal otherwise I couldn’t do shit like this with her. She’s freakin’ adored at the hostel.
Anyway, so these girls sit down and start giving her all this attention. She attracts the ladies as does Valentina. The girls were like, “it’s so funny to see a guy like you with a cute, fuzzy little kitten.” I didn’t know what they meant. I thought they meant cowboy, so I decided to talk in a Texas accent. The second I did they were all excited. I didn’t realize Southern guys would have it made like that up here. They said they didn’t realize that a cowboy would want to dye his hair blue. I said, “me neither,” and they laughed like that was the funniest joke they ever heard. That’s when I figured they wanted to fuck me. When girls get all giddy like that, it’s kind of a signal sometimes.
They ended up asking me to go to a party, and I was right that they were Emerson girls. I said no because then I’d have to use the accent all night and I’d be bound to forget. I also don’t want to be around drugs or alcohol. I also don’t want to be around a bunch of rich people. I know some people get scholarships, but I know a lot of those people that go to Emerson have money. I’m just a lowly not-a-real-cowboy.
The girls were practically begging me to go though, so I kind of regret not taking them up on their offer. They started calling me the kitten rancher, then the kitty rancher. Then one of them innocently said, “the pussy rancher.” I just smirked. It hit her friend after I smirked. She gasped and said, “oh my god, do you know what you just said?” She was like, “no what? –oh! oh my god!” And her face turned bright red and it took them a while to calm down after that. That’s when I reckoned they were probably Freshmen. Note that I used the word reckon. I think that’s Southern anyway, though they use it in England too. You just don’t hear it around here.
Ok, back onto the hostel. There aren’t too many people at the hostel. There’s this cute redhead that looks just like Scully, and there’s a group of guys from Italy. They call me paesano, even though they’re from Milan, almost as far from Sicily as you can get. Last night the entire hostel popped popcorn and watched “Breakfast At Tiffany’s.” Apart from Mickey Rooney’s offensive character, and Audrey Hepburn being a pain in the ass but getting away with it because she’s cute, it wasn’t bad. Gary Oldman (II) liked the cat, but couldn’t understand why it was only named “Cat.”
Anyway, I talked to Sharly this morning and the conversation went something like this:
“Sweetheart wanted to fuck me so I did, but she was playing this game like I was raping her, so I kept stopping but she begged me to keep going. I didn’t like the game, she was fighting and saying ‘no, no, please stop’ so I pinned her down and told her to shut up and enjoy it. That’s when Pete walked in, got the wrong idea and kicked me out, so I left. I don’t want to go back there.”
“What about Valentina?”
“I want to see her, but…Sweetheart.”
“You need to come home and clear things up and be a father.”
“Besides, I need you.”
“Shut up Grimm, I need you to work.”
“I know. I don’t want to see Sweetheart though.”
Then she said I could come home and stay with her and her girlfriend until I straighten things out. So I said I would. I’m going to take the next train home, go right to the store, then after work go home with Sharly. I haven’t talked to anyone besides Sharly. I’ve kept my phone off and I have tons of voicemails, but I don’t even know who they’re from since I haven’t listened to them yet.
Sharly asked me, “Have you relapsed?”
I said, “No, tempted, but Gary Oldman [II] keeps me in line.”
So I’m going back but I’m no clearer as to what I want to do about Sweetheart than before I left. I want Valentina in my life, but not Sweetheart. And I can’t kick Sweetheart out and have visitations with Valentina because chances are Sweetheart will leave town. She’s a fucking pain in the ass. I think Gary Oldman (II) is sick of her too.