Monthly Archives: October 2008

Just One Drink

Posted by Roc Wieler on

It had been a long week. I was completely exhausted. My body ached; my mind was drained. I finally sagged into the “Hole”, grabbed a “Revenge” from the bartender, and collapsed into my regular seat in the corner, back facing the wall. I simply wanted some “me” time; just some time to relax, alone, and unwind.

“Like OMG! You’re like, that Colonel guy right? I can’t like believe it! Sasha it like never going to believe me.”

There she stood, in all her trashy glory. She was a chubby Achura, squeezed into what appeared to be a plastic wrap dress. I cringed inwardly for many reasons, the least not being the thought that there should be laws against women over a certain weight being permitted to wear that style of clothing. Without asking, she seated herself across from me, the light catching her face, revealing two pounds too much of makeup. I threw a “rescue me” glance to the bartender, who only chuckled and raised his arms in that “Don’t get me involved” gesture. The worst part of course was that she wasn’t even remotely attractive.

“So like, what’s it like being, like, a hero? It must be like, so exciting!”  At that moment, it sounded like there must be a horse nearby, but it turned out to only be her laugh.

I didn’t even know her. She must die.

She blathered on incessantly about the most droning subjects, then suddenly sat bolt upright, raising her hand to me, palm upwards, index finger gesturing for me to “hold that thought”. Thus far, I hadn’t said a word to her so I really had no idea what was going on in that vacant little head of hers.

She tapped a comm implant on the side of her head, and the little blue connected light came to life. She didn’t lower her arm. I guess I looked like I might suddenly interrupt, or break into dance or something.

“Like, I know! He’s so like, totally annoying. I think like, I’m going to like complain to Dean about him. I’m like, so tired of defending him all the time. Until he like, learns to use the holo system, he’s like, just going to keep screwing things up. It’s like…” 

I had tuned her out by then, so apologize if I can’t recall anything of particular value I may have missed.

Five Revenges later, she wasn’t looking any prettier. It was time for me to leave. I stood up from my seat, and she moved her arm to block my path, emphasizing her finger at me to hold that thought. This girl was truly astounding. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, was still talking on her head implant, had nothing of value to offer me, and yet still had the brass to motion at me to halt.

“Deidra, can you like hold on a sec? My date is like, leaving.”

I sighed. I think a small piece of me died inside as well.

“Where’s the party?” she asked.

I honestly had no clue how to respond, which I think might’ve been a first for me. 

“I, um…” I stammered.

“Well like, why don’t we just like make the party ourselves?”

I studied her for a moment, almost envious of her woeful ignorance. There are many things about this situation that would have to be very different for this to happen, the least of which would be a lot more alcohol.

I didn’t want to be mean, though. She just wasn’t my type.

“Look. You seem sweet.” I lied. Her face beamed, her wide eyes sparkling at the false compliment. “I’ve just had a really trying week. Why don’t we meet up here tomorrow night, when I’m, you know, a little more rested.”

I guess my answer satisfied her, as she lowered her arm, and started yammering away to her friend again. 

I made my way to the bar, and paid my months old tab, much to the questioning look of the bartender. It’s not that I didn’t have the money, I just liked the idea of not having to pay per drink.

I walked out the front door leading back into the station marketplace, and took one last look around. 

I was going to miss the Hole, but I sure as hell wasn’t coming back here for at least fifty years. Maybe more.

April’s Fool

Posted by Roc Wieler on

I’ve had a very special friend in my life. I’ve known her for decades now, since our youth. The story of how we met is quite the funny one, but is not the point of this tale. 

Today is about apologies, mine to her, and how I miss our friendship.

When we were younger, our tribes were of very different status, mine being the poorer, less socially acceptable of the two. Though this never came into play between us, it was something that found root in me. It was the beginning of the blackness. 

As the years carried on, we grew closer in so many ways, yet it was that black root of bitterness, self righteousness, judgement, jealousy, anger, entitlement, that grew more.  I always wanted to be where she was in life. I wanted the big house. I wanted the money, the power, the friends, the status, the brains, the respect. Doesn’t everyone?

Not her.

All she has ever given is that which she has always wanted; love, respect, compassion, understanding, patience, passion, forgiveness, support.  It put her even higher on that pedestal in my mind.

She has always seen me for more than I am. She has always believed in my greater potential. And while I often allowed myself to feel judgement at that, it was never her intent. She is truly a pure spirit. Yes, she has her faults, we all do, but that is not the point here.

The point is that throughout all these years, I have continually disappointed her. Don’t misunderstand. I haven’t disappointed her as a person; in fact I still find it hard to accept that she hasn’t given up on me. No, I disappointed her in never keeping my word; never sticking with commitments made. 

And yet even still, through marriage and motherhood, she continued to extend her heart to me, to extend of herself. Always she was there to make the first move, to open the first invitation, to constantly allow me to be part of her life. And yet always there was a reason I was not there (though some were legitimate).

This was our relationship until a few months ago. I betrayed her trust once again, in what proved to be the last time. I have only myself to blame.

I knew in my heart I just had to reach out to her and all would be right again. Yet I did not. In fact, as the months passed, it was she that called me, humbling me and reminding me once again just how love, even between friends, knows no barriers.

We talked at length about why this pattern existed, and what we could do to break it. It was emotionally raw and open. She even offered to put the past behind us, and build a friendship anew. She apologized for the way I felt, and for anything she had ever done to add to that. I told her I would write her a communication with my own apologies, my own thoughts.

That was two weeks ago. Once again, I didn’t follow through with things.

It’s sad really. I am actually very reliable in every other area of my life. Why do I allow myself to act differently with her?

Enough is enough.

I picked up my communicator and called her. I told her my excuses. I told her the apology was coming.

April, here I am, missing being a part of your life. I am sorry for hurting you repeatedly. I am sorry for not doing what I say.

I don’t want to lose our friendship. I don’t want to live within my own negative perceptions of how things have been between us.

If you’re willing, I am willing to build a new and better friendship.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Blog Banter #1 – Ambulation

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Welcome to the first installment of the EVE Blog Banter, the monthly EVE Online blogging extravaganza created by CrazyKinux. The EVE Blog Banter involves an enthusiastic group of gaming bloggers, a common topic within the realm of EVE Online, and a week to post articles pertaining to the said topic. The resulting articles can either be short or quite extensive, either funny or dead serious, but are always a great fun to read! Any questions about the EVE Blog Banter should be directed here. Check out other EVE Blog Banter articles at the bottom of this post!

This month’s topic comes to us from PsycheDiver: Ambulation: What are your hopes for your avatar and new functionality of stations?

—

Things had changed again recently. The stations are more crowded. There are more and more capsuleers crowding them. More and more immature egos to deal with. I am sure it’s just a phase. It will pass.

To be fair, I can mostly ignore the newer pilots swinging their genitals around, virtually pissing on themselves and each other to mark their territory. I think it’s good that things have gotten busier.

I love women. All varieties: fat, thin, short, tall, fair, dark, doesn’t matter to me. What amazes me is that I’ve never noticed how large breasted and perfectly built most capsuleers are before. 

I finally have gotten to put faces to names, especially of those I’ve killed. It’s a helluva lot more satisfying than simply watching their ship break apart. It bothers me a little though, that even in the midst of this war, stations allow any race, any faction to dock and enjoy their hospitality. It makes me sick to see Amarr in a Minmatar station. Send them to their own bloody space.

If I really need to get away and am not assigned to active militia duty, I retire in the new Freeform Industries Corporate HQ. The contractors they hired really did a nice job renovating the place. They even put in a private bar. I like to think it was for me, but know better.

And I suppose more people around has brought better shopping. You should see some of the clothes I’ve bought recently. I mean, do you have any idea how hard it is to find soft leather assless chaps?

Yes, things have changed. But the more things change, the more they stay the same. I’ll still be sitting here, enjoying my drinks, enjoying this life of mine, hoping not to scare away all the ladies.

—

Participants:

Mistaken Identity

Posted by Roc Wieler on

Was out shopping on the weekend, something I tend to do far too much as a healthy hetero male, when I saw a friend I hadn’t seen in a while walking the other direction with her husband. Being the social butterfly I am, I thought it would be nice to catch up to them, and say hello to her, so I did just that.

I reached for her arm, gently saying her name, a huge smile on my face, and was actually excited about seeing her again, until she turned around, and was someone else.

She looked confused, but friendly. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.” I said.  I let go of her arm, backing up slightly so as to be non threatening. A simple case of mistaken identity, until her boyfriend started in.

“You got a problem, Minmatard?” he started, obvious hostility in his voice. Before I could even reply, which we all know I was going to do, his girlfriend interjected, pushing her arms against his chest, standing between him and I. “Stop it. Please, you just got out of jail. You don’t need to go back. He didn’t mean anything by it. You don’t want to do this.” 

My heart went out to her in truth, from superficial judgement it didn’t seem a healthy relationship. Then again, how many really are? Being helpful by nature, I added my two isk worth. “She’s right.” I began, trying to form the words with enough sarcasm and vileness as to bait him into the desired result, “You don’t want to do this.” I don’t know if it was the giant smirk on my face, the effect of my words, or some other factor beyond my influence, but he pushed his girlfriend aside violently, and telegraphed a right hook towards my head that a Brutor infant going through his first combat lessons would’ve seen coming.

I stepped into the punch, instead of jerking away, the common, untrained response when someone swings at you. I caught his elbow under my armpit, his fist and forearm uselessly passing me by. Wrapping my own arm around his now snagged limb, I used my forward momentum, as well as his entire mass driving forward towards me, to drive my elbow square into his nose. At the same time, I smashed my heel down on top of his foot,  with the outside of mine braced against his ankle, and using that same driving forward motion, pushed my knee against his. This would snap his knee. I saw the look on her face; the look of confusion; the look of fear. I quickly stepped off of his foot. It saved his knee, but with all my force pushing forward, and him now pulling backward from the blow to his nose, he fell.

As he dropped onto his ass in a most undignified fashion, two local Concord Enforcers were already racing to the scene. I put my hands up in surrender. “What’s going on here capsuleer?” One of them demanded. “I thought this lady was a friend. I was mistaken. Her boyfriend didn’t appreciate me talking to her I guess, and assaulted me. I defended myself.” And it was actually the truth. That felt weird.

The boyfriend was groggily standing to his feet, with the help of one of the enforcers, blood splayed across his face. He held the fragments of his nose in place, cursing incoherently. The enforcer questioning me turned to the lady. “Is this true, ma’am?” 

She stood shock still, wide eyed at the entire proceeding. It had happened in less than two seconds. I don’t think she knew what to make of things. “Ma’am? Did this happen the way he said?”

She snapped back to attention, nodding. “Yes, yes it did. He did no wrong.” Her boyfriend reached for her, but she pulled away from him, her face flushing, her eyes darting away from my stare in embarassment. 

I heard a beep as the enforcer scanned me. “Colonel Roc Wieler, eh? Well Colonel, you’re free to go about your business. Sorry for the inconvenience. Hey, can I get your autograph for my kid?” I signed the paper he handed me, and happily put on a show, though not for him. I could see her staring at me.  I smiled a genuine smile, winked at her, then started to walk away to go about the rest of my day. 

I overheard one of the enforcers talking to the boyfriend. “Seems you’ve violated your parole just now. Looks like you’re going back to jail. You think you’d learn to control that temper.” 

I snickered. Then I felt a tug on my arm. I figured maybe he was anxious for round two, but I would’ve heard him running at me, would’ve heard the enforcers yelling after him. 

So I turned, hands relaxed, to find myself looking at the girlfriend. She didn’t say a word, just simply slid me a piece of folded paper, then quickly walked away, taking an entirely different path than that of her boyfriend.

I unfolded the paper. On it were her name and phone number. I shook my head, laughing to myself.

Women are crazy.