debensam

I didn’t know that anybody still used Tumblr... thank you for reaching out, though. These messages brought to mind a lot of people that I truly came to love, yet have deliberately fallen out of touch with.

In a moment of honesty, I’ll confess that the distance is what kills me. If we knew each other well, you’ll remember that I grew up in a lot of different places. Saying goodbye to friends for a long-ass time has always been a conventional part of my life. At some point I got used to it.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss the hell out of you. Some part of just me distances myself emotionally from friends who are distant physically. I don’t like that part of me. I want to stay in touch with everyone.

I keep moving around sporadically, chasing work and travel, and trying to find the perfect balance between the two. It’s been a hell of a ride and I’ve met a lot of people along the way. Somehow through it all, I crave solitude.

I put on a graphic tee, a black hoodie, and a black jacket. Some maroon joggers and a beanie to match. Street clothes. I was cruising through the park, and stopped at a pavilion, watching the dogs and their owners. I literally go on these early morning cruises more for the pleasure of playing with the dogs than the pleasure of skating.

One little german shepherd trots up to me, but I can tell he’s nervous, and saves face pretending to smell the bush next to him. He’s watching me out of the corner of his eye with his nose up in that sagebrush, and I’m wishing I’d brought some dog treats.

The owner calls out firmly, “get over here, what are you doing?” His lady, on the other hand, keeps saying “go say hi! go say hi!” Maybe opposites do attract. The german shepherd hops away and I’m puzzled, but I shrug it off and keep cruising. Not a minute later I find a bum wrapped up in a sleeping bag, right on the sidewalk.

Then it hits me. Dude thought I was homeless.

At least, that’s my theory. It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened, but nonetheless I found it exceptionally bizarre. First of all, this happened in a very upscale neighborhood, where finding an unconscious bum on the sidewalk is almost unheard of. A resident of this particular locale sees that, then they see a kid wearing street clothes, they assume the worst.

Ironically, I live in this bougie, pompous middle-class wasteland. I’m not homeless by any definition.

One community class later the professor refers to me as “senorita.” Now, I’m a straight male, but something about my appearance (at first glance) is homogenous with women. This isn’t the first time someone has mistaken my gender, nor will it be the last. But I mean, a college professor? Fuck.

So I tell him honestly that I’m very in touch with my feminine side, but I’m a male nonetheless. He realizes his mistake and this grave look crosses his face. Everyone can hear what’s happening, and I’m thinking, “Did I cause this because I wanted to grow my hair out?”

Next, we’re all practicing Spanish phrases one at a time. The students take turns asking the same question to another student. Professor Whatshisdick is monitoring the whole thing, going “ask him, ask her, ask him,” etc. They get to me, and dude goes “ask her.” Not a millisecond later he realizes that he just made the exact same mistake that I corrected him for. He yelps, collapses on the desk in front of him, bowing his head in utter shame. I don’t know how the fuck to react to that.