Day 755: The Chair, Part 14 – The Friendships, Part 5 = Chris

16 years ago I met Chris when I was accepted into a magnet theatre program; the one I mentioned in my earlier post about Dan.  However, I originally met Chris through Dan and then ended up forging our own bond through our experiences through the community theatre group.

Chris is extra special because he was co-founder of the ‘Pathetic Guys Club’… and for those of you who’ve known me for a long time… you have probably heard me speak of the ‘Pathetic Guy’ with great fondness.

The ‘Pathetic Guys’ are awesome.

It started out innocent enough… one night, Chris, myself and a couple other guys from the Theatre group went to Hollywood video to rent a movie… we ended up in the horror section… and we ended up renting a few movies based solely on how horrible the cover art was… our mission?  To find the worst horror movies ever made.  And folk… we succeeded.

I probably should have mentioned that we did this on a Friday night… and this is how the name ‘Pathetic Guys’ was born.  About halfway into our first horrible movie we all looked at each other and said, “It’s Friday night… we should be on dates… but instead… we’re together in… in the basement… pounding Mountain Dew’s… and watching the worst horror movies imaginable… we are SO pathetic… we are Pathetic Guys”.  BOOM!  We were born… and we had a name.

Eventually, the “Pathetic Guys” expended from simple movie watching to donut ‘theory’.

Donut?  Well, one night, we noticed a Dunkin’ Donuts commercial.  As I am probably sure you are aware of… Dunkin Donuts advertizes that they bake fresh every morning, “time to make the donuts.”  One faithful night, the Pathetic Guys saw this ad and thought… “Huh, what do you think they do with the donuts they don’t sell at the end of the night?”

There was only one way to find out.

We went on a stake-out.

When Dunkin Donuts closed, we watched as the employee’s started dumping bins of donuts into garbage bags.  WASTEFUL!

THEN!  They carried the bags to the back door and set them outside… and then retreated back inside.  We all froze… there… unattended… was a garbage bag FULL of donuts.  Operation Donut Snatcher was ON!

Without a word, Chris darted from the car.  He raced through the DD parking lot to bag of donuts… he scooped it up and slid behind the corner of the building just as an employee opened the rear access door again to deposit a second bag.  He turned back so quickly that he never noticed the missing first bag.  As soon as he was gone, Chris reappeared.  He looked back to the car… then his bag… then the second bag… then back to us… he was smiling ear to ear.  He picked up the second bag and raced back to the car.  By the time the employee had returned with the third bag, he noticed… he looked very confused… Looked around, shrugged his shoulders and went back into the store.  By the end of the night… we ended up with four bags of Donuts.

Now… don’t be horrified by our actions… at least at the time, Dunkin Donuts did not have the same policy as Panara Bread Company.  DD was not in the practice of giving their leftover to charitable non-profits.  They would simply throw them out.  So… we were not stealing them… we were liberating them… at least that’s what we told ourselves at the time.

As the years went on, our Donut ‘stealing’ ended up being more of a prank.  If Chris missed a Pathetic Guys Night because he was on a date… the odds were pretty good that he would wake up with donuts all over the hood of his car… any by the time I was in College… the Pathetic Guys Club has grown to close to 20 guys… so the level of Donut related pranks grew in complexity over the years.

The Pathetic Guys aside, my friendship with Chris is a bit more complicated than the friendships I maintain with the others.

With Chris it’s not just about him… it’s about his whole family.  A family I have become emotionally attached to over the years.

Chris’s parents had an open door policy and I spent years hanging out in their house… whether Chris was there or not.  Sometimes I hung out with his two little brothers (I’m the baby of my family, so Michael and Jeff are the closest I have to little brothers of my own), sometimes I just hung out with Ann and Dave (Chris’s parents), and sometimes I just walked into their house and watched TV or read comic books until some member of the family came home.

Most of the time it would be Ann, “Hi John, want to help me bring in the groceries?”   The Patterson’s are my second family.  The bond I have with they grew even stronger when Jeff, their middle child was murdered about ten years ago.  As soon I got the news I just got in my car and went to their house… and I just sat outside until morning… and then went to the hospital where I held Ann’s hand for hours.

Today, Chris lives in Chicago with his family and I don’t get a chance to see him as much as I would like, but I always make sure I stop by to see Ann and Dave to give them some love whenever I’m in town.

Day 754: The Chair, Part 13 – The Friendships, Part 4 = Justin

I met Justin 17 years ago.
Justin and I were in High School Marching Band together, but we met about a year prior to that when a mutual friend introduced us.
The first time I saw him he had hair down to his butt and was wearing a Harley Davidson t-shirt… and I was like, “Oh great… who is this joker”.  

That’s right folks, I totally judged his book by the cover… and I was totally wrong.  By the end of our first night hanging out Justin and I were friends for life and we often joke about how wrong my first impression of him was.

Like Tennessee, Justin also fell off my radar for a while… during my senior year of high school, Justin moved to Virginia.  During those early years he visited once and then talked periodically.

Ultimately, Justin was a much better friend than I was… like clockwork, about every year and a half I would get a call from him and we would pick up that short hand… at least until the time the calls stopped coming.

I have to admit… when the calls stopped, I noticed.

So, I started looking for him.  And as I internet stalked him, I started learning more and more about what Justin had been up too.

He had joined the National Guard as a photo journalist (I found pictures credited to him on official NG websites).

I even found a picture of him in a renaissance reenacting troupe based out of Virginia.  I actually exchanged a few emails with the group’s organizer, who said Justin had disappeared about a year prior to my inquiry and if I find him, “say hi for me.”

At one point, I thought I had tracked down his brother in Utah… but the number was connected to a fax machine and no one responded to my voice when I tried to talk over the beeping.

Finally… about eight years after I had last seen him… and about five years after I had last spoken to him… I found his parents living in Texas… and called them.  His mother, Nancy remembered me instantly and promised to pass my message on to Justin.

An hour later my phone rang.  It was him… and we talked for about two hours.

He had been living in Utah with his brother the whole time.  They both exclusively used cell phones and used their land line for their fax machine.

“Why didn’t you just send a fax?”

It never occurred to me.

Anyway, about a year after tracking him down, Serena and I flew out to Denver to visit her brother… and well, Justin drove down to see us for the weekend.  We had a blast… it was like no time had passed at all.  He was the same old Justin.

By the time I entered the Foreign Service, Justin has moved to Pennsylvania… and of course, being the amazing friend that he is, he drove down to see us at the Oakwood before shipping out to Serbia.

Justin!  I owe you a road trip.

Day 753: The Chair, Part 12 – The Friendships, Part 3 = Tennessee

Then there is Tennessee, who I’ve known for 21 years.

I met Tennessee is a Special Ed class in the sixth grade.  Oh, have I forgotten to tell you that I’m diagnosed ADD with a Learning Disability in English Comprehension and Grammar?

Seriously.

Well… I guess that probably doesn’t come as complete surprise…

Anyway, Tennessee and I were mainly friends in Middle School and in High School we kind of went our separate ways.  Nothing ever really happened to our friendship… we were just into different things.  I was in the Marching Band and Tennessee was kind of doing his own thing.

Later on we ended up in some Theatre classes together and then were paired up with some of the other “freaks and misfits” in our school for a History project on the 1920s.

Now, the thing about “freaks and misfits” is that most are extroverts… however, while in the high school setting… we are forced to be introverts.  Well, for this project we tore the can off… we put insecurities aside and busted out, from what I was told… one of the best decade’s projects ever seen by my high school’s history department.  Our teacher actually videotaped it and I’ve heard that over the years she’s shown to students as an example of “what to do.”  Being that we were the 1920s… our group went first… three groups were supposed to go that day… but after we set the bar… the other groups (made up of mainly the ‘popular’ kids) asked to have another day to ‘rethink’ their presentation.

So, what did we do?  Well, at the time, Tennessee was short with short blondish hair… and I was tall with long black hair… our project idea was so simple it was stupid… but ultimately successful: Bill and Ted’s Excellent 1920’s Adventure.  Complete with time traveling phone booth.  The special effect for awesome!  Kind of like “Under the Gaslight” (obscure reference… if you know what I am referring to… let me know ).  That project is one of my fondest High School memories.

Anyway, later that year Tennessee couldn’t take being forced to be an introvert anymore.  He came out of the closet, which wasn’t too much of a surprise to me, transferred to an alternative school, and then ran away from home.

He fell complete off the radar for years.

Then about 3 years ago Tennessee found me on facebook and we picked up that short hand like no time had passed.  It was really pretty amazing.  Tennessee told me that he’d pretty much left everything from his old life behind… but over the years had thought fondly of our friendship, and set-out to find me.  I was deeply moved.

BTW: Tennessee is his stage name… he’s a drag performer in San Francisco now.  I’m dying to take Serena to catch his act.

Day 752: The Chair, Part 11 – The Friendships, Part 2 = Dan

I met Dan while playing little league baseball 24 years ago, just after his family had moved to Atlanta from Fargo, North Dakota.  We were both the bench warmers and we’ve been friends ever since.  

A couple years after that faithful baseball seasons ended, Go Pirates!  My parents switched parishes from Holy Family to St. Ann’s.  I had been an altar server at Holy Family, so as soon as we made the move to St. Ann’s I signed up… and guess who I found?  That’s right… Dan; and we pick-up right where we left off from baseball.

After altar servers, Dan and I moved straight into church youth group together… and then… well… and then we both took a very separate, yet similar path into Theatre.

You see, one interesting aspect of my friendship with Dan is the fact that we NEVER attended the same school.  Friends for 24 years… and never once did we have a class together… or a lunch period together… nothing.  We were just friends… friends by choice, not proximity.

It was sometime in high school, where we both started getting involved with our High School Drama Clubs… and through our friendship, our two separate Drama Clubs began to bond and support one another… by the end of High School, I was pretty much performing exclusively with a community theatre made up of folks from both of our schools.

Since then, we have supported each other through college.  He visited me a few time in Charleston.  Serena and I have visited him in NY (where he now lives).  Dan even flew back down to Atlanta for my wedding.

Dan and Cara (his long time girlfriend who Serena and I adore) are actually getting married this month, but I’ll be in Pakistan and I’m really bummed that I’m going to miss it.  We tried to make a wedding show thrown for them while we were in town for home leave… but you know… life happened.  We weren’t able to sync up our scheduled.

Till next time Dan & Cara!  We love you guys!  We’ll be thinking about you on your wedding day!

Oh… and this is pretty funny.  When IBM transferred my father to Atlanta, he was actually given the choice between two locations: Atlanta, GA and Fargo, ND.  That’s right.  Dan and I were destine to be friends for life.  He even moved to Atlanta to make that happen.

And another thing, Dan is certainly not a bench warmer any more… he’s quite the Ultimate Frisbee enthusiast.  As for me?  Well… I blog… my fingers are ripped!

Day 751: The Chair, Part 10 – The Friendships, Part 1

Time out!

Before I continue telling you about ‘The Chair’ I need to tell you something about Costello:  He is my very best friend in the world.  Friendship is very important to me and with a select few individuals I have developed tremendously strong/lifelong bonds and over the years I have developed a kind of short hand with these friends that has allowed us to pick-up where we left off… which is really important with how much I travel… where we all live... and how much time normally goes by without getting to see my friends.

Friendships are important. And before I tell you about Costello… I need to tell you about some of my other friends… six other to be exact… in the end I think it will better illustrate the bond that Costello and I have.

Now, I don’t want to come across like I am ranking my friends. That’s the farthest thing from the truth.  All six people I will tell you about over the next few days know Costello.  And I am sure they understand where I am coming.

Friendships are very important.  And as Serena likes to point out… most of my close friendships are freakishly long… almost unnatural in length.  So, if I’ve know you less than thirteen years… don’t feel bad… there’s still plenty of time.

Day 750: The Chair, Part 9 – The Shuttle

When a company who operates stores all over the world… like… well… say… a company like IKEA, advertizes a free shuttle that will transport customers from a specific underground station to the store every 15 minutes… one would think it would be clearly marked.  One would think.

After exiting the train Costello and I made our way up the stairs and through the turn styles and finally back into the grey, misty, dampness that can only be England. Although we found our way to the exit without a problem… we couldn’t quite tell where the IKEA shuttle was supposed to pick us up.  Over the next ten minutes we asked a half a dozen station employees regarding the whereabouts of the pick-up location… each one giving us a vague explanation as to how the shuttle works and the location we should be standing.  For the most part… all of the various pick-up locations were pretty much in the same vicinity.  So, we parked ourselves in the middle of the area and waited.

10 minutes became 15… 15 minutes became 20… The shuttle was supposed to pick up every 15 minutes; we should have seen a shuttle by then.  But instead… it started to rain… RAIN!  More RAIN?!?

20 minutes turned into 30… and still we hadn’t seen the IKEA shuttle… and remember; Costello and I still intended to make it back to London in time for the Jack the Ripper Walking Tour.

Finally, we gave up on IKEA and found a city bus that went by the IKEA, stopping across the street from the store… so we jumped on and continued our journey.

Day 749: The Chair, Part 8 – The Exit

FINALLY!

With the line cutting girl out of my face and coast clear in front of me… I checked-out and once I got the cart moving again Grayson started to chill.

Hurray!

However, when I reached the sliding doors separating the main lobby from the parking garage I froze in horror.  Someone had opened the flood gates… there was an endlessly steady stream of people entering the store from the garage.  I just stood there, assuming the masses would yield to a parent with a small child burdened by three large boxes, just like they did at the check--- Never mind.

As always, I was wrong.  The IKEA whistle was still blaring in the ears of everyone but me.  The masses had lost their minds!

In situations like this, my normal tactic is to make eye contact with people.  You see, in the real world, people would recognize the need behind my eyes and yield, step aside, hold the door open, and maybe even lend a hand.  But at IKEA… the land that reason forgot, I received quite the opposite reaction.

Every time I made eye contact with a person entering the store with my sad eyes and sideways smile I was greeted with a look of fear.  And this happened on more than one occasion during the 10 minutes it took me to exit the store.

Literally, I would make eye contact, see a look of fear and then the person would start walking faster.  One woman even started jogging.  I’m not kidding!

Apparently, the thought of letting someone enter (or exit) IKEA before them was so horrifying that all common courtesies had been abandoned. When I had enough of their childish displays… I looked at Grayson and said, “Are you ready to man up.”

Grayson:  “You know it pop’s.”

We did our secret father/son handshake… and I started pushing our cart towards the door.

Seeing us make our move caused the flow of people entering the store to speed up.  Their looks of fear grew when they saw the length of one of my boxes balanced across my cart… it was almost the same length as the opening of the door.  The flow continued relentlessly… but I continued to push forward without hesitation… refusing to chicken out. Just like James Dean.

Finally I reached the door… and literally, people started diving and squeezing through the small openings between the ends of my boxes and the doors.  Even after I made it into the door way… essentially blocking all access to the store people still tried to push through.  One woman, probably my mom’s age, tried a last minute attack which ultimately failed when she ran into my boxes… realizing she wasn’t going to make it she sulked off wafting a great deal of attitude in my direction… and just as I crossed through, moving away from the door, unclogging IKEA’s main artery… everyone lost their mind again… pushing and shoving to get past me and into the store… Grayson and I were so tussled that all of our boxes were knocked off the cart before we had completely exited the flow of traffic.

Not one person, I repeat… NOT ONE PERSON offered to help… everyone just walked around us, over us, and give us looks of disgust for being so incontinently in their way.

And folks, I think it is important to understand that this did not take place over a holiday weekend… this did not happen on a weekend at all.  There were no crazy sales… it was just a normal Monday morning.

I was livid by the whole experience.  I couldn’t believe it.  All that for a chair.  A chair!  Errrr… a chair.  At that moment I swore never to visit an IKEA every again.

*****

The Underground train groaned to a stop.  The doors opened.  Costello and I disembarked.  The last leg of our trip would be above ground.  On the IKEA shuttle bus.