Trainee Priest

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My last blogaruu post was published in an extremely hungover state. Since then, I have stayed in all day, mulling things over. You could say, I stayed in my head all day, but I won’t. A few mighty choices were made and also good guidance was received, I am pumped again! Flashbacks from last night have also been flooding back all day long, some quite funny, however, most of which would be unsuitable for the blog, no one wants to hear those stroies. All I will say though, is that you can get away with murder if you use the line “Sorry, I’m a trainee priest”. Immediately you are looked upon in a different light, and all is forgiven.

The origins of the line came about, I think, when I was trying to be nice to a girl who was not my type, and so to speak, I had to dodge a bullet. Normally, I might be nice and avoid the truth about me playing dumb to any rare advances, by telling the girl, sorry, I’m gay. A good line which has no comeback really in Ireland, no matter if she does or does not believe you. However, this line cannot be used in West Hollywood. If so, a girl will say, ok, no problem, and bring 3 or 4 gay friends over for you, not the desired outcome. So, instead “Sorry, I’m a priest, or a trainee one anyways” is used, sheer brilliance in my opinion. 

Last night I was unfortunate enough to get stuck as a wingman with a girl who had an immense dishwater personality. The conversation was brutal, not only could she not understand me, she wasn’t my type so it wasn’t worth the effort to explain what I said with her, the conversation was flowing, one way! Stuck for a few drinks, me talking to her plain expression, getting nothing in return. Every time I would try to engage a few words out of her by asking a question, all I got in return was her plain gaze looking at me, waiting for the question to come, not understanding my accent to realize I had already shouted at her, five times, “What did you say your name was again?”.

You know a conversation is not going well when a question like “So what way do you drive to work from your house? Do you take that street or this street? Oh yeah, good call, that street is way better” is asked in order to beat a few words out of someone. Just as I was about to ask what her car was like for miles per gallon (how bad is that?!!) I managed to stop myself, and stop the torture. I knew this was the nadir, enough was enough, I’m going for a stroll, this is horrific. Quick walk around the bar, not much going on, back to my buddy and the two girls, the job. 

By the way, I am a brutal wingman, as in horrendous, I can’t imagine anybody actually does like the role, playing second fiddle. Unless the girls are models, which happens 9 times out 10 I suppose. Sure. You end up talking to someone you don’t really want to talk to, and who probably doesn’t really want to talk to you either. It is a match made in heaven, lose-lose situation. Anyways, I get back to the group, and her friend kindly informs me, in front of everyone, that dull as dishwater really wants to make out with me, ha, her exact words. Eh, oh Jesus, no thank you, beep beep, is that my phone, who is texting me at this hour, hang on, I’ll be back. Another stroll to the bathroom and back again, to be told again by her friend the same thing, with dishwater just kind of nodding along solemnly, in a plain, boring, dull fashion, very enticing. 

Sorry, I can’t, I’m a priest, well almost one, just one more semester to go. Still though, I can’t really do it, pity too, it was an appealing proposition you threw out there. “Oh my Gawd, are you reelly?” My buddy chips in with a “Yeah, he is, can’t do it” and backs me up. Thinking about it now, the following reaction is probably why I used the line in the first place, ha, maybe not to turn down, but to turn up, so to speak. They love it, eyes are glistening, a real life priest, oh my Gawd. Balls, should’ve used the gay line. However, it does bring about a bit of humour at least… “So, are priests allowed to have sex?” It depends… “On what?” On what the girl looks like. Ha, she understood that and was not impressed.

To make a long story a few lines longer, it ends with the girl, somehow, suggesting we should hang out again, we should do this more, it was fun talking to you (??!!!) and holds out her phone. I pretend not to see it, so she asks for my number. A battle of wits ensue…”So what’s your number Merrick, I’ll call you” 4… “That is funny, what is it?” Just 4… “You are funny, no seriously”… Ok so, 44 “Seriously? Is that an Irish number? Do you have an American cell?” No, thats it, my Irish number, just call 4 or 44. 

Maybe it was this reaction that reminded me to use the line in the club at the top of my street later on last night. It can be used in numerous ways really, I would highly recommend it. Also quite useful for the next day, ha.

Moving on, I was probably better off staying at home all day. The one time I did go out I ended up insulting somebody. On my way to the shop I had no change for the homeless dude who is entertaining and worth every dollar I give him every few weeks. I’ll get you on the way back boss! Buy the food, looking forward to it, good song comes on my iPod, happy days. Walking home, I see a different homeless guy sitting down by a wall near the shop. He motions towards me, I sing him a few lyrics of the song I am listening to, and kindly give him a dollar. Strange, he doesn’t seem too happy with that, stands up, how ungrateful is he, I’ll stick with the usual homeless guy from now on, and I keep on walking. I can hear him shouting now at me, and walking after me. I gave you a dollar buddy, its all I can afford! I take out my earphones, and realize the mistake I had made. Re de de.

Turns out that the homeless guy was not asking me for money, but instead asking me for a light for his cigarette. And it also turned out that he was not in fact homeless, he was just a normal guy sitting down against a wall waiting for the bus. Oh right. Sorry about that boss, no offence intended, the scruffy look is in! At least I got the dollar back too, wuu huu.

Song of the day… Underdog by Kasabian

I’m So Happy!!! Believe Me!!!

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Yesterday a few big decisions were decided upon and finalized. I think. No, they were. I’m stupidly indecisive so they were probably decided upon. Not fully sure yet. First one involves me moving out of my current abode next week, on Wednesday I think, time to fly the roster and all that. My roommates extended the stay an extra month to hook me up, so I knew it was going to happen. Not to worry, last night I was offered a place near here, short term, perfecto, and not with a nut like some of the other offers. I’m so happy!

However, I think I might head up to San Francisco for a few weeks, save some money (although how do you save nothing?) and get my pilot and stuff written, that is why I came here after all! Still not fully decided though, ha, so I will keep you posted. I’m so happy!

Jim in the gym also rang me yesterday, with some good news. I think, not sure really. He told me that there was good feedback from the last few times I DJ’ed, re de de, and a few guys who owned bars and clubs were interested in giving me a job, did I mind him giving them my number? I enquired if it would be for payment or pro bono like all my other work, and he said there would be payment. Sounds good, work away Jim! Looking back at it now though, I should really have clarified what kind of jobs Jim was on about, and what kind of payment too. Hopefully he meant a DJ job, and cash payment. Not too sure though with Jim and that gym, I’ll have to wait and see. Also remembered the fact that I had decided to head to San Fran next week for a while, perfect timing. I’m so happy!

Last night I was then offered another DJ’ing job, or a trial run at least, in a bar close to my house, Barney’s Beanery. This place gets fairly packed, I’m not the biggest fan of it to be honest, but always full and it could be good. Ironically, on my second day in L.A, I actually traipsed along to this place for an open interview, bar tending I think. Interview took a nose dive when social security number was mentioned and that was the end of that. The manager last night, who offered me the job (after I told her she should hire a DJ because the music was boring, ha) was the girl who interviewed me the first time around and said no thanks. A friend I was in there boozing with knew her, she started to horse booze into us, and a job was put on the table for me, a far better way than the formal interview rejection! I’m so happy!!!

Again, as it was the only place open after 2, we ended up in the “club” at the top of my street with my buddy. Usual line for the girls working… Sorry, I can’t take a dance off you, I’m an Irish priest, we’re not allowed. One girl turned out to be an evangelist, and gave me a rant and a sermon, trying to change my religion, it all got very weird. My buddy then informed me he thought that they were calling my name to go up on stage, wuu, not sure why but I’ll do it, up on stage I go to sit on a chair especially put out. About 10 girls start to pour out the wings to give me a dance. Not really sure what is going on, but I’ll go with the flow, the spotlight is on me after all. Then the announcer tells everyone to give me a clap, the girls are dancing for me because I’m getting married tomorrow! Wuu, am I? I’m too drunk to notice. “C’mon folks, give it up for Mike, his last night as a single man!” Eh, Mike or Mark? Mike or a drunk fool? The way my bouncer buddy (maybe ex-buddy now) big Jim came up on stage and dragged me off, led me to believe that maybe it was a Mike that they were calling up, and not Mark. Oh yeah, sorry Jim, I forgot I’m not actually getting married tomorrow, that bit did throw me off… Won’t be going back there for a while. I’m so happy!!!

If you’re wondering what the whole “I’m so happy” bits are about, it is to do with people in L.A continuously telling me that they are happy. I don’t mind if I ask them, but when they tell me without me asking, or just spring it on me, then convince me to why they are happy, seriously, I am, believe me… I find it odd. Yesterday alone it happened twice. One random girl on the street who I have never met before, and was talking to her about the fires in Santa Barbara, decided to interrupt my terrific story, to tell me how happy she was, “I’m so happy that today is today, aren’t you happy too, I’m so happy I moved to LA, I’m so happy we had this chat today, I’m so happy that I got to meet you, I am happy that you are you!” I still can’t figure out if she thought I was really happy and tried to out-do me, or thought I might be unhappy and wanted to rub her fake happiness in. It was highly strange, I had no response to all the happy words. I’m so happy!

Finally, last night I got a random text from a girl who I have not spoken to in a while. At 2 in the morning, without me texting her first, she texts me asking what am I up to? Normal enough. However the rest of the long text was about how she’s so happy with life at the moment, all this great stuff looks like it will be happening for her soon, happy happy happiness, rar diddy rar. I texted her back that I was so happy too, how fun it is on the bread line, great news that the visa is running out, did I tell you my sitcom has yet to be written, never mind made? I’m so happy!

Obviously, she did not get my brilliant sarcasm or joke, and replied with “I thought you’d be happy for me?” Ha, ape, sweet Lord, I wouldn’t mind if she was a buddy, but I don’t have the will to be happy for people I don’t really know! I better not name her, on the off chance she reads this and gets annoyed. Actually, come to think of it, her name is Carolina. If she does actually read this, happy days, she can’t be happy with that!

Song of the day is Young Adult Friction by The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart