Things didn't look so good on the job front; Almost two months had gone by, and I still hadn't found anything.
No wait, that's not entirely true. I hadn't found anything I could use. Nope, that's not right either. I hadn't found anything that I wanted to use.
Since returning from Calgary in December, I had found one job only, but I had also been offered two full-time positions, which I had to refuse, since Vanier College was more important than starting an entry-level position in a dollar store.
"You work for six months, and you could make assistant manager." They had told me.
Yeah, like I wanted to brag about that. In a year or so, maybe I could come home and brag to my significant other, "Guess what, sweetie?! I made manager of the dollar store today! Yup, I'm actually going to be making a whopping 26,000$ a year now!"
Considering my goal, therapeutic child psychologist, paid upwards of 80,000-150,000$ a year, I think I could stand to set my sights slightly higher than selling fucking cheap rip-offs of popular toys and ceramic dishes that crack when you put stuff on them.
Don't get me started on dollar stores.
I also found a Telemarketing thing, but the deal is this: I can't do Telemarketing, because I can hardly use the phone to call my family, let alone total strangers who don't want to hear from me. I think I got that from Aaron, actually. He was afraid of the phone, and over time, I guess I became that way too.
So, the telemarketing thing lasted as long as the training did. Then, I gracefully quit, sat in my apartment and played with my pussy...cat.
School was fast approaching, and I could see no way that I would be able to pay for it, and this scared me. I plead with my parents to provide with some financial help and, in this rare case, my dad hemmed and hawed, while my mother, seeing my need, quickly handed over 3000$ for me to use, as I saw fit. No, that's not true. What actually happened, was we went for dinner, and I sobbed for twenty minutes, until she gave me the money.
So, equipped with cash and with a positive outlook on life...somewhat, I was able to leave my rathole apartment, no offense intended to my rats, and head to Vanier College on February second, 2001.
Just so we can be clear on this, 2001 is when the millennium actually begins. There was no year 0, so 2000 is sort of a limbo year. Everybody who celebrated the millennium on January first, 2000, are a bunch of jackasses! By the way, my birthday is January twelfth, so I had recently turned 20.
Now, this was an awkward scenario for me, because most of the people going to Vanier were younger than me, so it might be hard to make friends. Heck, if they were as receptive as that Chris guy, than my time there might have to be spent alone.
Speaking of Chris, in the weeks leading up to Vanier, I found myself thinking about him more and more. I wasn't sure why, because I was pretty clear on the fact that no smoker is attractive to me in the least, and also, I find shyness really cute, but Chris sort of took it over the line and set a new standard for shyness. So, why couldn't I stop thinking about him? I really didn't know then, but I knew that I wouldn't let myself get involved with him. Not as a friend, and especially not as more. It was too soon for me, anyway.
So, there I was again. I was standing in a lunchroom filled with thousands of people, none of which were paying attention to me. I was all alone in a big school, holding my little backpack, with my little paper and my little pencils and pens, feeling like a kid. I had shaven my face and worn black clothing, though, in an attempt to fit in with the youngsters, though. My hair hadn't been cut for a while, due to lack of money, so it had acquired an interesting look. I found that, as I got older, my hair was able to grow a bit longer, so now I had sort of a "parted down the middle, bangs curled up slightly, type of young Devon Sawa/Joey Gordon-Levitt" type of thing going on.
First thing I did, was get in line for the bookstore. My classes that semester, were: english, psychology, sociology, french, PE, and history.
I was looking most forward to psychology and history...because I like to think about my past...
Drum Play
Sorry, couldn't resist.
The books for this semester, I estimated, would cost about $450, in total, so I had brought $500, just to be safe. I stood in line and looked around me. For the most part, the cafeteria, where the bookstore was located in, appeared to be filled with mostly young kids. Now, by young kids, I, of course, mean 17, which is the youngest allowed in the school. I saw that there really shouldn't be too many problems finding a friend within the first one or two days. I mean, I was still young at heart. I still played computer games, went to see cool movies, used slang words, swore a lot...plus, like most of the boys, I'm sure, I still tended to masturbate once a day, or more.
I found myself looking around for Chris, but couldn't see him. I stood in line and tried to read Mick Foley's autobiography, "Have A Nice Day", but my mind was distracted by thinking about why I thought I thought about Chris. I deduced that it was because I had a tendency to focus on certain things or people and, in this case, I had chosen to focus on Chris, because he was the only person from this school that I knew, and also that I had had a semblance of a conversation, and I use the term loosely, with him. It wasn't that I had a "thing" for him, as kids tend to say these days, or that I wanted to be closer to him. I was just that I was...
Aww, that I was all bullshit and I knew it. By the time I reached the head of the line and was waved into the bookstore, I had pretty much concluded the worst. I was smitten with Chris. I didn't know why, and I really wished I wasn't, but something about his presence had built this uncontrollable....thing inside of me, and I didn't know what it was or how to make it go away.
So, with a somewhat heavy heart, I placed my order for the books, and even bought some paper and a binder too. I came out with 478$ less, stuffed the books and junk into my backpack, and made my way to my first class of the day, which, according to my schedule, was Sociology.
The class was held in the new building of Vanier, which meant that I had to trudge through the whole school, out the rear, down a path past an old Christian cemetery and toward the new building. From there, I had to climb up 8 flights of stairs, then walk down the hallway to get to my class. I had lost quite a bit of weight from lack of food, but my shape, I suppose, wasn't the greatest, because by the time I arrived at N564, I was pretty winded. I practically dragged my bag into the class, picked a desk at the rear middle of the class, and sat down, promptly throwing my bag under my chair, slamming my head down on my desk and prepared to die from exhaustion.
"Hey."
I quickly looked up to see that the object of my thoughts, Chris, was now sitting beside me. Wearing black, and still looking very pretty with his blue eyes and long black hair, he was actually addressing me, which was amazing, considering the fool I made of myself the last time.
"You're taking Sociology?" was the brilliant thing I came up with to ask.
"Yeah." was his reponse.
Then, in an act of stupidity that had several of my brain cells actually packing their bags and leaving my skull in disgust, I said, "Umm...What's your name again? It's Chris, right?"
The boy whose name I had pretended to forget, blinked and nodded, his face still expressionless, "Yeah. You're David, right?"
"Yeah." I replied, then added, "This is your first semester?"
He nodded and asked, "Yours?"
I nodded too and asked, "Do you know anybody who goes here?"
He shook his head and asked, "Do you?"
I shook my head and said, "It's sort of strange to be in a school where I don't know anybody."
Chris nodded, "Yeah. I'm okay with not knowing anybody, though."
I shrugged and answered truthfully, "I'm not. I prefer to have at least one friend in school, so I can at least talk to someone."
He shrugged and said, "Well, you can talk to me, or something, if you want, I guess, or whatever."
I shrugged, "Okay. Thanks."
"Yeah." was his reply.
We both sat in silence for the next few seconds, just looking at each other. Then, the teacher, a middle-aged woman who introduced herself as Janice, walked in and I faced forward to appear attentive. I could see, out of the corner of my eye, Chris looking at me for a few more seconds after I turned away, before he did the same.
And so, I guess, despite my best intentions, Chris and I sort of, I guess, maybe became friends on that day, my first day of Vanier College.
Or whatever....