Beautiful women

(214) I'm watching the beach. Reminds me of you
(512) "In my dreams I'm dying all the time..."
(214) I forgot how dark this movie is. Sexy though
(512) The reality of paradise. "God knows you're lonely souls."
(214) So how are you doin?
(512) Well. About to go to the rec center. Yourself?
(214) Great. I leave tomorrow morning for san diego to check out a grad school
(512) Far out. I just visited a college today.
(214) Which one?
(512) Howard Payne in Brownwood.
(214) Where is that?
(512) Look up Brownwood.
(214) But my computer.s not on
(512) You're getting a look.
(214) Near abilene
(512) Not in my opinion. Closer to Coleman.
(214) Oh my gosh you're right. Is that why you're drawn to it?
(512) In part. I gotta move to finish my degree so I'd rather be near family; dad, sister, nieces.
(214) That's awesome daniel. Will you miss austin though?
(512) No, not in the slightest.
(214) You don't regret moving there do you?
(512) I was being sarcastic, I'll miss the shit out of it and I'm coming back.
(214) Oh haha sorry hard to tell through text. Good. I intend to do the same. I wouldn't raise a family anywhere else but texas
(512) Thatta girl.
(214) I'm glad you don't regret it considering it's my fault
(512) Well I made the most of it like I usually do.

West Campus

Driving down 26th, headed home, at 1:05 am. A bicyclist in front of me takes his time meandering down the middle of the street. Passing a brand name apartment complex I can't help but notice a pickup truck parked in front, the driver revving the engine. He's looking over as I go by. The cyclist proceeds through the intersection as I pull to a stop. The truck is behind me now and I don't help myself. Counting, it only takes four seconds.

"Any time now, faggot!"

Really.

I don't make eye contact through the rear-view mirror, but I do put my arm out the window to give him a thumbs up.

"I can just push you out of the way!" I drive a Toyota RAV 4. It's been called a rollerskate. He has a lot to prove.

A split moment and he budges up to my bumper as I'm thinking 'This could be great.' Unlike my aggressor I realize I'm in Texas, where if you rear-end someone it is always your fault. That's where the "one car length for every 10 mph" rule comes from. A love tap and an insurance claim will give this fella something true to be angry about. He budges a little more.

I don't yell anything back, but I do put my arm out the window and make a circular swooping motion. Almost as if I'm saying "Well, give me a push, baby."

He's gunning his engine now and I'm actually expecting a jolt any second. The guy seems stupid enough. As I begin to move he's yelling "Move your ass!" in the best 'Harold and Kumar' reenactment one can muster. The truck pulls through the stop sign and I can hear him yell something unintelligible that I'm sure were great last words.

I think he was screaming at himself.

Fox paws

You know what separates men from beasts? Manners. Recognition of proper conduct in social settings. I'm no Ann Landers and you were brought here to be audience to a specific observation.

I have the great pleasure of working in retail. Corporate. See: Price points, "guest" service, Team Leaders, follow-up communication and product margin. A beast so enormous it has its own psychologically motivated jargon. Yeah, I'm being vague but you got hints. My job is present-tense.

"Which car company do you work for?"
"A major one."

So of course the big-wigs come around. (They only have a few minutes, there's a job performance review in 20 minutes and a conference call after that.) Clad in starched business-casual outfits almost as crisp as their attention to other people's detail they walk around looking at stacks of boxes carefully arranged by a Mexican at 5am that morning. Regardless of what they want or are looking for there is always time for two things: a carefully worded critique of the employee's work (that will be delivered third-hand) and a faux pas.

See, no matter what, these guys are getting a fat paycheck in a few days. The money is already there. They know it. This might lead anyone to conclude that they're doing a good job. So there is always room for superlatives. Accolades. Promotions. Positive feedback. We are now in the laudatorium. These motherfuckers stand there, patting each other on the back, reveling in vicarious success.

I've seen it happen.

You know when you see something and it conjures a parallel example in your head? Yeah. When I see these people create more frivolous work for the underlings and then talk each other up with no regard for those around them, a very specific image comes to mind: a dog licking its ass hole.

"People" can have manners. The ability to recognize what to do when. If you've just told someone to stack boxes in a negligibly new way then do a 360 to pat yourself on the back for it, someone like me is going to notice. Not only do you fail to retire to offer yourself congratulations on a non-job undone, you choose to do it right there next to the people who make your paycheck possible. You're licking your own ass hole. It's the social equivalent of "I don't give a fuck."

I see a dog, squatting in the middle of a room full of people, a hind leg hiked above its head. It sniffs its anus the same way it becomes acquainted with all creatures. Leaning in closer, a tongue flicks out rapidly as the snout nudges into the crevasse. It uses teeth for a grating effect as it lick-bites the orifice. This is all right in front of people. The point is, the dog doesn't care. The behavior is inconsequential because "it's a dog."

People don't have that excuse. People can know better. To commit a faux pas is to do something that most people wouldn't do. People can also not give a shit, and that's the biggest faux pas of all.

By definition:

gen·tle·man -noun 4. a civilized, educated, sensitive or well-mannered man
per·vert -verb 1. to affect with perversion 2. to lead astray morally