I met Sober Jake Jackoff in a chat forum for metalheads, of which I was not one, but I was writing for underground music magazines and if you interview people like Joey Shithead and Thor you will eventually find yourself in strange places.
When I met Harley, I was in love with someone else. I was always in love with someone else; a guy who made poor life choices and strung me along like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Names would change, but scenarios remained the same. This was what I was into. Needless to say, unrequited loving wasn’t exactly productive or beneficial in any way that mattered (read: between the sheets) so I took to online dating for more substance – if you can believe that.
The underground music magazine that I wrote for was a gruesome mixture of punk and metal, and I reveled in its delinquency, making friends and enemies across the city’s various Eastside dive bars. There was still a day job, since the freelance underground punk and metal magazine business was not particularly lucrative, and I struggled during the day to be an adequate secretary. The problem was at that point I didn’t really care about anyone other than myself.
9:35am He’s married? Did he just say he’s married? Oh. My. God. I wish I were deaf, so I didn’t just hear that. God! God hates me for not believing in him. This is payback, and it’s in the form of a wife. What a horrible woman! Stealing my secret future husband. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. I have never seen or heard of any topic even remotely related to eternal vows with a soul mate in a year of working together. In 365 days, he never had the urge to mention her? Is she the elephant woman? Maybe she’s just hideous. No. She’s probably cute. A super cute, blonde, Kindergarten teacher who wears short shorts because her legs are perfect.
I met Randon when I was an executive assistant for an infamously crooked businessman known to have ties with a certain thuggish biker gang. My boss owned youth hostels and bars in the city, and my relationship with him was always tenuous and nerve-wracking. He’d often demand I perform some kind of shady administrative task; always willing to bend the rules for the sake of his wallet.