Chris the Bastard
"We sat back and laughed, ignored by the world we attacked
Everything seemed so fake and plastic, you were so cool and sarcastic
You looked over your shoulder and I was always there
We went easy and stepped lightly in a world so
different from us"
Operation Ivy - Old Friendships
It was around April when Jen started going out with a new girl. She lived in New York and I am never one to get into peoples business or affairs because, quite frankly, I couldn't care less. But from my curiosity I chatted with this girl one day and from her I was aquainted with, Chris. Chris The Bastard he proudly named himself. They would both call me while they were walking around town right before the SAT classes I took a year ago.
"Stop talking to your New York hippy budies! Talk to them at the next protest!" Miss. Woodley had to tell me a few times to get off the phone before class would start. "I have to go!" I'd say. Then Chris would call me later so that we could laugh together as we watched The Simpsons.
I looked on his Myspace page. In his "Heros" section; Nick Blink, Jello Biafra and his grandfather.
"You like Rudimentary Peni?" Wow. Talk about right on.
I would come home from school and sit on one of those old boiling water heater things, the one under the kitchen window sill so that I could look out the window while we talked about the local "harcore" kids fucking up shows, how they pissed us both the fuck off, rude people showing their admaration by throwing trash at us from their car windows, and how rediculious we thought it was that people bought bondage pants for 70 dollars and bondage belts for fifty. We agreed that one day we would put up a very affordable D.I.Y. underground (Literally. We agreed on a basement because rent would be more afforable.) shop so that we could spread the joys of affordability to people everywhere.
My phone got cancelled. No one was able to pay the bill any more. (Not because I talked too much, but for other reasons non-related to my chatting habit.) Time went on. Our plans to hang out never came through because we lived a little more than an hour apart and money for transportation would be too much for us to handle. If we met up in The City, it would have been fine except that hi mother was not to keen on having him make the trip alone.
I am always told that I have no sense of time, but it was about 6 months ago? I do not know. What good is time when it is dead, passed and gone anyway?
So eloquently in his own way, and polite. I missed him. Not many people could see the world the way that I did and I really appreciated him for it. I had thought about him and wondered what happened, thought I may call him soon.
I had a missed phone call left last Sunday. Clicked the flashing "message" botton on the cord phone and the soundwaves shook me,
"Hello, It's Chris."