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2003-04-17 - 1:28 p.m. So an Aries and a Leo walked into the bar... You say you're a gansta.... Um, sorry. I'm listening to 50 Cent's "Wanksta". Something about that guy and his skills get to me every time. And what the hell's up with the name? So, a couple of weeks ago, my mom, my sis, and I went bowling with Mom's boyfriend, Tony. Well, I think that's her boyfriend. What would you call him? I actually got to meet him face-to-face on my B-day weekend. Mom said she was going to take me up to that Japanese strip mall up in Edgewater, NJ, and Tony drove us up. Tony was the one that invited us bowling that night, and this weekend the whole gang's going to a restaurant. Strangely enough, I don't mind at all. During our entire time in exile here in Camden (16 years) up to this year, my mother, my bro and I lived with my stepfather, Jr... or, rather, he lived with us. From them came my little sister, who'll be 14 soon. It was only this year that Mom finally forced him to move out, and in a way I was very glad for that. Their fights had become more frequent and annoying in those months leading up to the final kick-out. In February, Mom made him finally buy himself a one-way ticket to PR, and he was there for three weeks before returning. Said he never told unemployment he was leaving for real. Now he lives across the street from our church, which is a few blocks away. And every Sunday we go there for breakfast. But, like I was going to say, Junior had always been there, for bad and for worse. (My issues with him are too buried for me to start talking about them here.) And now, I am in a strange situation, where I can now call someone my mom's boyfriend. Tony... is a trip. Like Mom, he's a charter bus driver, which means he's given all the fun school trips that come around. He drives a year-old truck that he cleans whenever he's feeling bored. On Saturday, while we (meaning a crowd of mom's coworkers, mom, and myself) were talking, he was resting his arm on his truck, but, to ensure there were no scratches, kept a ragcloth between his skin and the finish. When we went bowling, we spotted said truck a quarter-mile away from the entrance of the place, far, far away from all the other cars that could hurt his dark-red baby. And I wouldn't dare standing too close to the truck, just so he won't get nervous. One thing, though, is that he's a pretty decent guy. Between the jokes we throw at each other, pretty genuine interest, and the general bashing, I have nothing against the guy at all. It's better than what was before... Just an advertisment: The new Side Scroll Life is up! Make my day. The Past - Guestbook - The Future, Too |