[--------------------------------------------------------------------------] ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #553 `888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8 888 888 888 888 888 "Why Am I So Nice?" 888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8 888 888 888 888 888 " by Anilos 888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 4/6/99 o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8 [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] It was saturday night, and I was sitting in perkins as per usual with my good (and only) friend, Josh. I knew something substantial was going to happen this night, I just couldn't put my finger on it. We both only had two cups of coffee before leaving (which is VERY rare, usually we have about 6 cups. I kid you not, I'm fairly pathetic.) and that signaled the beginning of a night more eventful than usual. It's a sad thing when the employees at perkins know you by name and you know them by name. (Me and Josh have both decided to try a new place this upcoming weekend, but it's Spokane and that's going to be fairly hard.) One of the employees, Rob, I am convinced is always strung out on something when we get there, he's always there the same time we are and he usually serves us. Rob one night was particularly nutty and he decided to tell us of this super duper idea he had for coffee. He proposed that we put ice in our cups then fill it with coffee for a delicious refreshment. At first I was very skeptical, (and convinced he was insane) but I decided to humor him and did what he suggest and the weirdest thing happened, I actually liked it. Now, there really is no significance in this, in fact the idea of iced coffee I assume is already something that a lot of places utilize. "It's going to be weird leaving this place, If I do. We'll have to find a way to keep in touch," I said. "Ya, actually if your going to go to the east coast we could probably live near my mom and my new step dad, they're about 40 minutes away from baltimore," Josh replied. "That would be rather interesting. You were right about that Joe Satriani CD, the man is an amazing guitar player. Him and John Petrucci are really starting to get me intrigued by the idea of playing a musical instrument again, perhaps then you'd finally have someone to Jam with. Is it just me or is there a certain absence of people we know here tonight." "Your right, it's sort of eerie." "Want to go rent some movies? I don't feel like drinking any more coffee. I've only had two cups of coffee what the hell is going on?" "We need to go to a new place to drink coffee." "Your right, this weekend lets try the perkins down by Cavanaughs," I chuckled. "Actually, I am rather sick of perkins, hopefully there's another place in this wretched town." So here we are, going to get an old (sort of) horror movie (In the Mouth of Madness) and one we were both rather interested in seeing. (Pi) Actually, another friend of ours, Michelle, (Object of my depression, anger and crappy creative writing on my web site.) was adamant about seeing it and I felt it would be appropriate to spite her and rent this movie and watch it without her. It was kind of mean for me to do such a thing, but I think it's a fitting punishment for never calling me. (but then again, no one does.) She said "Ryan, we should just have a sleep over at your house, eat junk food and rent movies like 'Pi', it would be real fun. Me, you and Josh. "Ok, just call me sometime this soon so we can set everything up." "Ok, I promise I will." Well, Michelle, It's been two weeks and my phone hasn't rang for me, at all, not even once, I don't even get wrong numbers for christ's sake. It's almost as if I'm being avoided on purpose. We reached blockbuster video at about midnight, I didn't want to rent from blockbuster since I had a late charge thanks to my little punk ass g-funk wannabe brother, Jordan. But, Hastings was closed and Hollywood video was too far away for Josh to drive. We got out of the car and notice these two seedy looking guys approaching us, we both figure they're drunk off their ass and probably will just try to assault us. (typical cliche') Before we go inside Josh heard them call for us, but both of us didn't make it out and just proceeded inside. We got the movies and approached the counter, we had just been there the night before but I didn't have the money to pay the late fee. This time though it was different, now I had forgotten the blockbuster card but had the money. I uttered a particularly nasty curse under my breath and told her I didn't have my ID on me, school, or otherwise. But thankfully the same lady who had worked the previous night was working here again and was very nice. "Well, just give me some information about where you live and who's name the card is under." I told her the required information and just hoped she would allow me to rent these movies. "I'll just make it look like I asked for your card and you showed it to me, ok? Just promise me you'll bring your card next time." It was odd, here was a really nice person, bending the rules so my lameass can rent some movies. Maybe Humanity, well Spokane in particular isn't entirely hopeless when it comes to generosity and kindness. As we left the door and proceeded to Josh's car we again noticed the drunk looking man again and Josh hurried to the car, I knew he was coming in our direction, a lot of things were running through my head. Who was he? What did he want? Is he crazy, drunk, or a homicidal maniac? Am I blowing this way out of proportion? No, he was none of these. "Hey, do you have a $1.50 I can have? My friend and I are stranded here and need to take the bus home." Not a murderer or drunken slob, Not a lunatic babbling incoherently or even a homeless bum. He was just a man trying to get home. My natural affinity to be kind and generous kicked in and I gave him my last two dollars so he could get home. I got in the car. "What did he want?" "He needed money for a ride home, so I gave him some money." "I was half expecting him to try to pick a fight with us or something." "Ya, me too..." Suddenly it hit me. Like a ton of bricks, a bag of cement in the crotch (it hurts just saying that, now that I think of it.) "Jesus christ I'm way too fucking nice. I don't even know if the guy really needed the money, but I didn't care. I was generally concerned about the poor guy." I could sit here all day and bitch about how me being so nice to everyone is totally contradictary of how I'm treated in return. But I'm not going to, what I'm curious to know is why I'm so nice and how the hell did I get so nice? Now that I've read over this pretty dumb story with no true meaning behind it, I realize that while you can be the nicest guy on the planet, that probably means you can't write stories (or articles for that matter) worth shit. I think I blew this whole thing way out of proportion, my medicine makes me prone to mood swings so maybe that's why I'm so erratic. Only 4 more months though, until this dumb (But necessary) treatment is over. But that's a story for another time. Until then, stay in school and don't do drugs kids (I had to put something wholesome). [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #553 - WRITTEN BY: ANILOS - 4/6/99 ]