My memory is a bum. I already wrote about this incident on my first blog (that I completely forgot about until I got a follower notification e-mail) on March 2, 2011. For those of your interested to see how flawed memories can become, feel free to do a side by side comparison.
You look well today. Did you have your cup of coffee or soda yet? You know, that’s bad for you. But it’s okay, because I get my share of cancer inducing chemicals too.
I guess I’ll start out with a story I told a classmate during my freshman year in college.
I was eating with my parents at a Chinese restaurant, except instead of trying to start a conversation with my dear family, I was intently eavesdropping on the table behind me. They were two guys at the table, and they arrived before we had. Both dressed casually, but one was more casual than the other– sweatpants, I think. Anyway, the conversation sounded somewhat like this:
Sweatpants: Thank you man, I really appreciate you coming out to see me. No one else picked up. Not Mom, or…
Jacket: Yeah man, no problem. How was rehab? Are you alright?
Sweatpants: I mean I’ve seen the doc and I’ve taken the meds, but none of it’s working. I feel like nothing’s working and things aren’t going anywhere.
Sounds like something from a movie, doesn’t it? Sweatpants kept on rambling a bit after that about all of his problems and not really letting Jacket say much of anything. There was a point where I felt guilty for eavesdropping.
Sweatpants: There’s something I never told you, or anyone else really…
Jacket: Okay, what is it? (By this point, the Jacket guy sounded pretty ready to get outta there.)
Sweatpants: Last Christmas, I just felt so trapped– and depressed, and lonely. I really needed someone to talk to, and I called Guy but he didn’t pick up, and I called Mom but she didn’t pick up… I called you too, but–
Jacket: Ah, I must have not heard my phone–
Sweatpants: No no, it’s fine man. Don’t worry about it, I mean I’m sure you were busy with parties or hanging out with your buddies. I mean it was Christmas, so (Jacket murmured some words of consolidation here) don’t worry about it. But I got so depressed that I tried to kill myself.
Sweatpants: I tried to do it and I really wanted to. I didn’t know what to do. But I mean I’m over it now… sorry to spill all of this on you. It’s just I feel like no one really…
Jacket was pretty quiet after that. I felt bad for Jacket, since it didn’t really sound like Jacket and Sweatpants were the best of friends to begin with. I stopped paying attention to them after that and focused on eating tofu and rice.
Mmmm, tofu and rice.
After hearing this story, my classmate told me I should start a blog and post stories like this.
Two and a half years later, I think I’ll finally take her advice.