Blurring the Lines

I try to be honest with the things I write and I try to not to step on any toes. Anonymity is a key factor especially when writing about real people who have their own views and opinions differing from my own. Recently I’ve had a slew of differing encounters with people regarding stories and posts I’ve put up. I share things which I cannot take back and I understand how a lot of things can be taken out of context especially when I am prone to elaboration and artistic license. I want the stories to be entertaining, but I also want to be truthful. I am sometimes worried about the history and subject matter which some people may find distasteful, but in the end the content is meant to get to things I myself don’t fully comprehend and am trying to figure out. 

It was going to be a particularly busy day. I had a tournament in the morning, a baby shower in the afternoon, and plans to meet some friends at an art show and drinks later on in the evening.

Talking to parents at a tournament usually means talking their kids up and ending with things they need to improve on. The worst parents are the ones who demand that their kids get more playing time, because their child is usually a terrible athlete. Those conversations are few and far between and mostly parents are quite positive. Talking to a parent that morning, P____ came into the conversation (“They Player that Never Was”).

“You know Mrs. G_____ was not too happy about your blog post about P_____”

“Yeah I could see how she would be upset about something like that.”

“It wasn’t too anonymous.”

“No, I suppose not” I answered, feeling a tinge of guilt. “That situation bothered me for a very long time. I tried very hard to get that kid back.”

She nodded but I could not tell if she agreed with me.

After the tournament I stopped by a baby shower for a college friend who was expecting his first child. I’ve been to a few of these co-ed baby showers/parties now, which strictly were only women just a few years back. I struck up a conversation with an acquaintance also single in his 30s. He asked about my drinking issues (“A Sordid Love Affair”.)

“You still drinking?”

“Yeah I mean I didn’t completely quit. I just quit drinking by myself, it started becoming a habit everyday after work.”

“So I heard you’re single now.”

“Yeah S______ and I broke up a few months ago.” I’ve found that there are two types of people, those who will automatically ask you about a breakup and those who wait for you to bring it up.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I mean it is what it is. Just staying busy and focusing on my career.”

He looked away and the conversation was interrupted by the opening of baby gifts.

I went home around 4pm to take a nap. I woke up to a call from C_____, a college friend who had recently moved into the bay area. C_____ and I were very close and had traveled together and kept in touch throughout our careers. He had moved to the bay area to be with his girlfriend who also happened to be my first serious relationship in college. I felt a little awkward about the situation when he first brought it up a few years ago, but they seem to be doing well and I’m glad that he is happy and seems to be quite settled. I’ve never felt it was my say what happened with anything after I parted ways with someone.

“I want to pick up a painting from you but T_____ would never allow it in the house.”

“What do you mean? It’s just a painting, you can just put it up anywhere.”

“She hates you man.”

“I don’t understand why she hates me. It’s been over a decade since we’ve broken up. So you’re saying I wouldn’t be invited to your wedding?”

He laughed into the receiver. “No man, no fucking way. She thinks you cheated on her.”

“Why would she think that?”

“She reads those stories you put up. She thinks you cheated on her while you were in China.”

(“A Night Out in China”)

“I’m surprised she even reads anything I put out.” I didn’t know how I felt about it, but it wasn’t too positive.

We made plans to meet up in a few weeks.

I drove out downtown to meet friends at a big art opening. Afterwards we migrated to Geary Club, a small dive in the Tenderloin.

“How was Taiwan?” (“A Wide Expanse of Water”)

“It was good, hung out with my folks and family mostly.”

“Did you go out at all?”

“Yeah was in Taipei for a few days, but nothing too crazy.”

“Have you started dating yet?”

“I’ve tried some dating apps, but not super into it. I would much rather just meet someone in real life.”

“Well you know that N_____ and I met on match.com right?” They were going to be married in October.

“Yeah, but its just a little strange, I’ve been on online dates before but it’s not really for me.”

“You’ve got to just stick with it.”

We moved down to Novella on Mission for a friend’s birthday party. The place with packed to the brim and we had to wait a little while in line before getting in.

“You going to W_____ and C_____’s wedding?” (“Loneliness in Frankfurt”)

“No man, I am not invited.”

“What about that girl E_____ from last week. You guys seemed to hit it off.”

“I mean she’s really cute and successful, but I don’t really want to jump into anything right now.”

“You can’t get over anyone without getting under someone.”

I watched the crowd and the young people enjoying their night. I bumped into a friend I hadn’t seen in years and he asked if I was still bartending. (“Never say Never”)

“No, not anymore man. It wasn’t really for me.”

“I definitely follow your blog quite a bit. You’re a great writer.”

“Thank man, I appreciate that.”

“You really put everything out on the line and it’s refreshing jump from the rest of the things people usually post on Facebook and social media. I recently broke up with my girlfriend too.” (“A Long Ride Home”)

“I’m sure everyone goes through the things I go through. The dating scenes changed quite a bit though.”

“Yeah, we should hang out and go cruising sometime.”

We exchanged numbers and went about our way. I left Novela with my friends and went back to the Tenderloin to grab some food. I got a text from S______.

“Hey I just wanted to see how you were doing. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

I was tired and said goodbye to everyone and made the drive home.

I got a call from my mom on the way back.

“Hey mom, what’s up.”

“Nothing, just worried about you.”

“Why are you worried?”

“About you and S______ and your relationships. You seem to always just break up at the end and every relationship follows the same timeline and trend.”

“I’m doing okay, you shouldn’t be worried mom. Things like this happen and I’m busy and getting about my own things.”

“I just don’t understand why your relationships always end like that.”

“It’s like I mean them to. Sometimes people just don’t get along. I don’t think I would want to spend the rest of my life arguing about the same things with one person forever. There’s still a lot of things I want to do before I really settle down.”

“I know.”

“Don’t worry mom, there’s nothing to think about it.”

I wanted to reassure her the best I could and to have her just be at peace with what I was doing, but mom’s have a way about seeing their children as children forever. She worried from care and love and if I were younger I would have probably gotten annoyed with the whole conversation. I wanted to give her a hug and tell her I was managing well, but my voice probably belied my true feelings. (“A Very Short Thunderstorm”)

Things have been a little bit crazy

I went out to these Vietnamese coffee shops in San Jose with a few friends today. It was a poor excuse just to ogle women in skimpy outfits while we sipped on overpriced iced coffees. The first two places were pretty miserable. The overall vibe was pretty creepy. All the other customers were in the late 30s or 40s and by customers I mean creepy old dudes. None of the waitresses would even make eye contact or say hi. They merely took our orders and sashayed away, the flaws on their skin covered by the neon lights and blaring music.

It was okay I suppose, I definitely got quite a bit done. Things have been a little bit crazy. Just in the past week I've gotten my postcards, framed my paintings, had them shot. And here I was in the dingy Vietnamese coffee shops drawing little personalized doodles on my postcards for clients and fans. It's been really busy and I haven't really been able to sleep much lately. Women are starting to warm up to me again and it's nice to revel myself a little bit in that attention.

I'm starting to get pretty burnt out. I called Jode earlier to just talk about things and she told me to take a few days off. My life's been pretty crazy lately and I kind of like it this way. I don't think I'll be taking any days off. I'd be all anxious just being away from the studio.

I went out to an art show on Friday which featured typewriter inspired art with a live set from the artist made of sounds from a typewriter. I wanted to throw up thirty times in my mouth. 

 After the shitty art show I met up with some friends at a lounge downtown which a buddy co owns. We hung out down in the basement and I felt like a goddamn gangster.

 Saturday morning I went to go pick up ammunition at the gun show at the cow palace since there's a massive shortage. It was a nightmare. The line for wholesale ammunition was 5 hours long. I just went and bought retail like a chump.














I also got Zilla some new bandanas from the gun show. He is one handsome mother fucker














Whenever I post pictures of Zilla on Instagram or Twittter of Zilla, he'll always get way more attention than for any other shit I do.

Today I spent the whole day in Vietnamese coffee shops. I drew on my postcards and am shipping them out to fans and clients.

My friend Jenny is trying to launch a company that sells rolling papers which will allows you to custom print images. She told me to shoot her some drawings of dogs and bunnies.

We went to three cafes today and at the last one I made some pretty bad sketches of the waitress and she came by and said "you made my butt look cute."

Personally I just enjoyed the free modeling session.

I left the sketch with my website on the table.

I get a message on my website about 20 minutes after I leave.

She left her number.


My first solo show open May 4th from 6-11 at Book and Job Gallery on 838 Geary Street.

I hope to see all your beautiful faces there.

love,

d

lost cause

I remember the first time I went into my new gallery to meet the owner and curator. I was a nervous wreck. I had to stop by Whiskey Thieves which is this real shit hole dive in the Tenderloin before the meeting.

I liked Carson and Jode and I liked the gallery and it was probably one of the biggest milestones in my career.

"There's only one thing I don't like about your gallery though."

"What's that?" Carson asked.

"It's directly across the street from my ex girlfriends place" I said pointing out the second story window across the street to the apartment complex.

I guess that's when it all really started. We had a few beers and I was having an alright time just bullshitting and getting to know new friends. Around my 6th beer I went out to have a cigarette and I couldn't help it, but I stared up at her window. My success marred by this memory from the past. The light was on.

I wondered if she still lived there. I imagined her making dinner. I wondered if she was still painting. I imagined her looking as pretty as ever.  It took a bit of a discipline not to call her at that moment. And ask how she was doing. Maybe she would like to come down and say hi to Zilla. But I didn't. And I haven't been able to get her out of my mind lately. And I thought I was doing so well.

I was down in San Diego this past weekend. The last time I was there was with Sue about a year ago. She met all my friends and they loved her. So much so that they told me that I had made a mistake. That I should get her back. That I was a real asshole. That she was the best thing I ever had. That I should just call her. And I don't disagree.

But I know she'll never pick up the phone. We've moved way past that point. That this is just the way things are.  And that I've just got to be a big boy about it. Maybe all this sentimentality is just the withdrawals from extended consumption or maybe this is just karma getting her licks in.

I just hope that everythings okay. And that she's happy. And smiling her smile, even if it'll never be at me again.

It was a mistake

It was a mistake. We had been seeing each other on and off for about 2 months.

I met her at a college bar, she was with her friend Clare. I remember I had broken my arm a week prior.  She saw my cast and immediately felt bad for me. Her name was Betty and we danced a few numbers and had some drinks and really hit it off. She was slight and had her hair pinned up. She had a terrific laugh and kept on giving me these real coy looks. She could really move on the dance floor.

Her friend dropped us off back at my place and I poured some vodka sodas and we chatted til the break of dawn. I started kissing her and things progressed a bit, but then she stopped me. She looked at me and got very grave and told me that she had a boyfriend. 

"Like you just broke up with him?"

"No, we're still together."

"At this very moment?"

"Yes'' she said hesitantly, "Does this change things?"

Well fuck yes it certainly changed things. I remember the first time I had ever messed with a girl with a boyfriend. It was back in high school. This girl was on the outs with her boyfriend and she decided to hook up with me to get back at him. I eventually felt so bad about it I straight up told him when I was drunk at a party. He didn't really mind that much. 

"No, not really. It's not like he'll ever know right?"

I knew it was the wrong answer to give, but she was there and looked very pretty.

I kissed her hard. 

We saw each other regularly after that. I took her out and she would sleep over. We never talked about her relationship. I never stayed at her place. When her boyfriend was in town, I wouldn't see her. I don't know why I kept up the charade.

"You haven't told any of your friends about me, have you?" she asked one night laying in my bed.

"No" I lied.

"What are we?" she asked.

I didn't know how to answer, I thought it was pretty clear. I was just the guy she was fucking her on the side. To her, I thought I was nothing more than a slab of meat.

"I dunno. I thought we were just hooking up. Just friends."

She seemed disappointed, but accepted it in the end.

"Just don't tell your friends about us."

"Okay." 

"You promise."

"Okay." I had my fingers crossed.

As things went on, she began to become more and more demanding of me. Nagging me about the food I ate, my study habits, the hours I kept, things of this nature.

"I'm not your boyfriend."

The statement upset her.

"I just broke up with him."

The statement upset me.

I knew how the conversation would go before it even began. 

"I'm not going to be your boyfriend."

"But I broke up with him for you."

"No, you didnt."

"I broke up with him because I thought we had something going."

"You broke up with him because you didn't want to be with him anymore. I'm just your excuse. You just used me so you wouldn't feel bad about leaving your boyfriend."

"Fuck you Elliot."

She had never cursed at me before. She wasn't really the type to curse so I knew she was real upset. 

"I thought we were just having fun. I know things shouldn't have gone as long as they have, but what did you expect? I told you from the start that I didn't want anything."

"You don't understand anything."

"I'm sorry Betty."

"Stop."

"I'm sorry" I said while trying to put my arm around her shoulder.

"I said stop."

She got up and went to the bathroom. We didn't see each other for awhile after that. Through the grapevine I heard she got back with her boyfriend. She started calling me again and things kept on going back and forth like that for a little bit. But in the end, I should've never really messed around with her in the first place.

the short, happy life of arthur b. wang

arthur had grown up quite the mama's boy. she doted over him and dressed him in very fancy outfits as a young child and groomed him to be the poised, articulate gentleman he became. his middle name was bernard, but his mother had taken to calling him bernie, which she still does to this day. he was an only child, which meant that he was gorged with all the attention and benefits that parenting could buy. he played tennis and was quite good at it, having been given a scholarship to play for a college on the east coast. he was fairly tall, with straight black hair which he always brushed in with product. he had a thin face with deep furrows which often gave him a discerning look, as if in need of approval.

after college, arthur naturally went to work for his father who was in the automotive industry. the family owned a few dealerships throughout the state and it was an easy fit. arthur was good at what he did and through the powers of nepotism and good ol' american elbow grease, climbed the ranks within the company and was made VP before his thirties. life was good for arthur and his family.

arthur dated here and there throughout his young adulthood, but found no one who he ever felt compatible with. he liked being in relationships, because he dreaded being alone. it was better to have anyone by his side then to have no one. he hated most when they were very much impressed with his loft, or his cars, or any such material thing. as if things weren't hard enough, each girl that he had ever brought home was met with the dissatisfied scowl of his mother.

"bernie i really wish you would meet a nice girl."

"yeah, i know ma."

"what's wrong with my friend's daughter olivia? she's a sweet girl and she's quite successful at what she does."

"she's nice ma, but you can't force something like that."

"oh, but bernie i would so much like for you to meet a nice girl."

arthur always found a way to sabotage his relationships. he never held his ground, because there was no need to. they did nice things for him,  tried to get him in their clasps. but arthur would just fling them away like some trivial, outdated gadget. it was just this endless lull, years passed, women came and went, like pieces of art on rent.

i'm sure it's happened to everyone, seeing someone across the room and instantly connecting through a glance that lasts much longer than it seems. she was like a flash of light, in the company of two gentlemen, each seemingly more eager than the other to win her attention. she divvied herself equally, happy to be at the center or things. they were at a charity ball for something or other. unbeknownst to arthur, lana was a hussy. she had come into the family fortune upon the untimely death of her father when she was just a little girl. her family owned high end boutiques and retail stores which meant she always had a reputation to keep, at least superficially. she kissed boys often, but secretly; she saw men as mere possessions, easily interchangeable, like a new fall wardrobe.

it wasn't as if she didn't want to seek a mate, merely she had yet to find one which fit her lifestyle and standards. she danced with one boy while the other brought her a drink, then she danced with the other. she spun and frolicked in her evening gown all smiles, her hair done up in a casual ponytail, the diamonds and jewelry she wore, conquests from past relationships.

he walked up to her after a number had just ended and asked her name. they shared pleasantries. her two minions watched a few steps away, chatting quietly, with subdued discontent. lana was enthralled by arthur's boldness. arthur was enthralled by lana's smile which crinkled the corners of her eye. they talked about this and that, but mostly because they liked the newness of things. he invited her to a party the following weekend and gave her his card. she called on the following tuesday. lana a creature of very fleeting tastes.

lana had deemed it quite necessary that she wed soon and knew she wanted children before it was too late. she snagged arthur hard and he had not a chance. she got what she wanted, not because she asked for such things, but because she expected them. she had arthur in her palm like a domesticated lap dog.

"what do you think of this dress arthur?" she asked holding up a black cocktail dress to her shoulders.

"that looks terrific, it's a little short though." She answered with a scoff. 

"i think i'll take it," she replied decisively.

"what are we lana?"

"what do you mean?"

"we've been seeing each other awhile now, and i want things to be more official."

"i think things are going great arthur. why would we need to change anything."

"i just want to know that you are mine and nobody else's"

"so what, like change my Facebook status?" she said jokingly. he laughed nervously.

"i know what i want lana, and i want you. i want you to be in my future and someday i'm going to marry you."

lana had been proposed to before, but she was never taken aback. it felt like the right thing at the time so she just went with it.

within two years they were married. they moved into a big house on the coast and had two girls. their lives filled with nannies, parties, dinners out, and worldly travel. the first half decade came and went in a flash and life seemed to have no bounds. but after awhile, it grew to be tiresome and mundane to lana. arthur was a good husband and man, but lana missed the days of passion and fleeting fancies. arthur, on the other hand, was content and fulfilled. he loved the family life and his daughters. the work filled his days, but he lived for his home. he knew that lana was unhappy and afforded her many niceties to try to appease her hunger. but no jewelry or gifts could satiate lana's desires. 

"i can't do this with you anymore arthur."

"lana, please. we've been over this."

"i'm not happy and neither are you. it's been years, we don't belong together."

"what about the girls? what about our family? doesn't that play a part in any of this?"

"we can't keep playing this game arthur. i want out. the girls will be fine it's not like you won't be seeing them anymore."

arthur looked at lana and saw a stranger. before the girls reached kindergarten, the marriage had deteriorated. lana had been seeing other men for over a year now. they divorced on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. arthur knew this was the end of things, but he had tried to hold it together at least for the children.

lana was ruthless and went after everything. at this point, she resented arthur. she resented him for the listless act he would put on in front of guests and company. she resented him for taking up the remnants of her youth. but mostly, she resented him for turning into a puppet, this man who could no longer fend for himself.

and as quickly as things came, they were gone. lana broke arthur. she took the children, took half his pay, and went off away to texas with her new beau. and arthur was left with visitations rights and a sinking feeling that his life had just ended. lana turned the girls against their father making their bi-annual visitations awkward and forced.

arthur turned to the bottle. his work suffered and his parent's were worried. his father told him to take a leave of absence and his mom told him to travel a bit. he was lost and turned further inward. no amount of solace from friend or family could bring him out of his desolate situation. it stayed like this for what seemed in interminable amount of time for arthur. he eventually went back to work, but not with the same tenacity. he grew gaunt and depressed, blaming himself for the divorce, for the way things unfolded, searching for the answers to why his life had taken the turn for the worse.

i suppose that most men of character experience grievous tragedies as our protagonist has. some horrible event in which they think they will never recover. but the days pass, terribly unbearable at first, the memories, doubts, and hurt entrenched in every waking moment. but days turn into weeks, and those into months. that sinking pain turning into a dull annoyance. and as more and more time passes, the old memories fade, new ones are made, and life goes on as it always has. and so it did for arthur.

"how are you feeling these days bernie?"

"i'm good ma, just busy."

"your father's been telling me that you've been playing quite a bit of golf."

"yeah, been at it for a few months now."

"that's good bernie. have you talked to the girls?"

"yeah, last week, i'm trying to get them over for thanksgiving, but i don't know how likely it will happen."

there was a silence before his mother replied. "things will be okay bernie."

"i know ma, thanks."

arthur picked up golf after being sidelined on the tennis courts due to an existing rotator injury from his younger playing days. it was the hardest game he had ever picked up and he dedicated his spare time to his new hobby with reinvigorated determination. as arthur's former confidence grew back, so did the women. he started dating a girl regularly who he was quite fond of. he played golf every week with his pals and things started to fall back into place. his daughters were in high school now and their relationship, although still strained got better as the girls grew older. arthur forgave himself and lana, for there was no longer any place in his hurt for resentment and hate.

it was sunday and arthur was out on the course playing 18 holes with some friends. he laughed and joked, but the game was serious as it always is when there's some money on the line. it had been years since he had felt like this and he was happy. happy to be in the company of friends, happy for the new girl he had in his life, happy that everything was starting to turn around for him. he was stronger, more so than when he was a young man, for going through periods of pain can sometimes be the best thing in life. he didn't shoot to well on the front nine, but was still on par to shoot a personal best.

they were standing on the 13th hole, a par four, dog leg. as arthur set up for his drive, he heard from a distance a group of voices shouting "Fore!" and before arthur could even react he experienced a brilliant flash of white and then a nothingness.

after lana, arthur didn't believe that things would ever be right in his life again. he believed in his heart that lana and his family were his everything, which they were for a brief period in his short life. he never told anyone, but as things had gotten better, he knew that everything was exactly the way they were supposed to be.

as his friends stood over him and called desperately for help. arthur laid listless on the ground on the tee box of the 13th hole, eyes closed  with a strange smile. the ball had struck him exactly on his temple and caused him no pain. it was a one in a million shot, and thus was the short, happy life of arthur b. wang.