Ramblings of a WEIRDO.

Most Interesting Day Ever.

Well, very much as the title indicates it, today was very interesting. I woke up thinking I would go rock climbing today. I was to go meet Can at CCC and then together take the bus back to El Cerrito Plaza and walk to the rock climbing place. The buses, I soon realized, were going to be delayed. Why? Road work courtesy of PG&E.

I get a call from Can. He says he’s on the bus already.

Now, a key point is that Can has no cell phone on him.

So he calls me from Jesse’s phone and he asks me where he should get off. The scratchiness of the phone so I text it to him. I text him to get off at San Pablo Ave and Carlson Blvd. So the bus gets there and I get on and get off at El Cerrito Plaza. Can is no where to be found.

I call Jesse. He has no idea where Can is. No idea where he got off. Crap.

I panic and start calling frantically. After about an hour, I decide to call Jesse, ask him what Can was wearing, and call AC Transit to see if any of the drivers could ID him. I call AC Transit. It’s the weekend. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I’m told by Nancy and Danielle to just head over there by myself. My conscience won’t allow it. I decide to stall by going to Peet’s Coffee & Tea. I order a small cafe au lait, soy milk, of course. I pull out my book, The Picture of Dorian Gray. So I sit there, reading. My coffee lacks milk, but I hesitate to leave my outdoors seat in case another 72 comes by.

I sit in the outside tables, alone for most of the time, with the exception of a man and his child for a few minutes. TWO HOURS LATER, I get a text message from Facebook, it’s a message from Can. After having spent three hours in ECP, I know Can is safe.

It’s too late to go rock climbing—not that I wanted to, being all shooken up and all—so I head in to pee. I’d had to pee for quite a while. I get out of the bathroom and order a small Pure Peppermint tea. I talk to Can on the phone for a while and we decide that I go to his house and we just hang out there.

I just barely miss the 72 en route to Hilltop. Another half an hour… Damn.

So I sit inside and talk to Can on the phone for the half an hour, poking fun at him for his video gaming (“You’re driving over 140 miles per hour and you’re on the phone?!”). The bus finally arrives and I hop in.

I sit down near the back and clutch my tea in one hand for warmth and my book in the other. Passing the Del Norte BART station, a group of distinctly loud ghetto people gets on, making perfect contrast to the noble and formal speech from Oscar Wilde.

I get to CCC and realize I have at least half an hour left before the Orinda-bound 74 comes around. I call Can and we talk aboout random things, including the speeling of Wienerschnitzel. He’s such a German.

We hang up and I decide that, in order to avoid my freezing to death, I head into Starbucks. I further hesitate before making my order, leaning towards a tall hot chocolate. I ask to use the bathroom (the tea was calling) and then come back out to order that hot chocolate.

I exit and am asked by a hobo for a cigarette. “Sorry, I’m underaged and I don’t smoke.” THEN he goes on telling me I seem like a “strong man” who “has it together.” Thank you…?

I make my way to the bus stop and notice a lovely scene (a swirl of clouds across a clear sky just barely covering the sun). I take a picture and happily sip at my hot chocolate. The bus gets there after a seemingly endless period of constant time checking on my phone.

I sit down and continue to sip while reading again. I get to Can’s after a relatively short period of time. We spend some time trying to figure out how to order this guy’s phone. Then we head downstairs and eat while stil trying to maneuver the website to add him to my family plan. No luck.

While eating, I show him the YouTube video of the drunk guy at a 7 Eleven trying to buy more beer. It was quite laugh-able.

We head back upstairs and I finally decide to call Sprint Costumer Service. That helped and saved lots of time. Now I have-ta convince Cindy to go with us sometime soon to get the phone in Emeryville. His aunt arrives and we briefly fill her in on the day’s events.

We head back upstairs and decide to watch Avatar. We go to the living room because his aunt is up there on the phone. I bring a blanket.

We watch the movie and then spend some time YouTubing. He plays some Rammstein and I show him some reggaeton. I remembered how perverted that music could be. It’s catchy, nonetheless. He downloads “The Simpsons Hit & Run” while I keep reading.

He lets me play for a while and I become addicted.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

At 1:30AM of Sunday, I decided enough’s enough. It’s Sunday, after all. Indeed, Sunday Secrets on PostSecret.com. Some sweet. Some odd. Some…. questionable.

Now, I sit here, on the couch, waiting for my sister to text me that she’s coming to get me. Can’s asleep on the couch, too, his legs thrown on my lap, serving as a table for his netbook, on which I am writing this.

There are random shows on TV and my foot’s falling asleep. I find it somewhat odd to be such good friends with someone who caused me pain some months ago. But I’m not complaining.

I DO wonder if it’s gonna turn into a sleepover. What, with my phone’s battery within the grasp of dead. Cursed be that horrid flashing symbol at the top right-hand corner of my screen.

Oh, well.

I should stop typing. I don’t really want the “clackity-clack-clack” to wake “Johnny.”

Back to reading.

On a side note, I kinda wanna change my name. So far, Basil Hallward seems to suit me well in terms of the character in the book that goes by that name, but it seems… awkward. Dorian Gray is—by far—a much better name.

ANYWAYS, later.

-Hector Galvez (:

EDIT: Yeah, Unplanned sleepover.

G’night.