I'm Not Coming Home Tonight, I'd Rather Sleep On The Street...

Life is a real curveball throwing bastard, you know?

One minute, you're ok, health is good, job is good, your relationship with baby momma is good, everything is solid. Next second, it gets thrown in your face, like some sick joke. It's a total "dollar bill on the fishing line" sort of game...and it happens over, and over.

I'm not getting emo on this one, but sometimes I think that karma is a real bitch, but it goes both ways.

I'm known about town as the local asshole. I don't find that necessarily true, as I am just brutally honest with people. If I don't like your shoes, I'll laugh, tell you why they're horrid, and that's it. I'm not one to sugar coat the shit out of anything. I think it's a trait given to me by my father.

Here's a story for you:

Years ago, I met a guy that was, what seemed to be, one of the boys. He "fit the part", so to speak. Was into punk rock and ska bands, boozing, womanizing, you know, the life. I hung out with this guy constantly. Everyday was another beer, another album, another day. All was lollipops and pony rides.

I don't know when it started going downhill. He would always preach about (insert pivotal punk band here), yet not know shit about the genre at all. Not that it's a bad thing, but it just seems that when you proclaim that things are "punk rock", you would assume that they would have a roundabout knowledge about said rock and roll music. Alas, this guy had about 5 bands that he followed; some iconic, others shite (in my own eyes). For example, I'm a huge No Use for a Name fan, but I'm not going to press on you why I think that they, melodically, ruled punk rock in the mid-90's. Ha. I really don't feel that way, but I am a huge NUFAN fan.

I think it started to hit when this guy started to purchase local businesses, upping his status, and buying into the capitalistic lifestyle that all of his bands preached against. Not that I hate money, but shut up, BRO. His outlook somewhat changed. It went from pals, hanging out, and chasing tail, to constantly lying about everything. Income, girls, you name it, it was a constant lie.

Funny side note: After Tim Armstrong's "A Poet's Life" came out, he called me into his office, whee "Wake Up" was blaring from his computer. After taking a glance at the video on the device, he looked at me in amazement, wondering where this guy came from. He HAD to be kidding. "Dude, look at him, all punk rock and shit.". He wasn't kidding. After explaining Rancid and Operation Ivy to him, he somewhat got it.

I think everything came to a head one night at a Hank Williams III concert. After a few (9 or 10) cocktails in, I finally decided to call him out...in front of the lady he was with. It wasn't pretty. I proceeded to piss all over his parade. I called him a poseur in front of everybody. I mean everybody. The lady, his employees, his "friends". All of them. Maybe it was a bad call on my part, but somebody had to throw him off of his high horse.

Another side note...not as funny: I worked for him at one of his bars for about a month. One Sunday, we had a meeting at said bar with all employees. After the meeting he asked me if I wanted to go out for drinks. I explained that I had to work that night, with him responding, "It's okay, dog, I'm the owner". I went out with him, and he went ahead, and got both of us shitfaced. Seems okay, if you didn't count the fact that he still expected me to work that night, still filling my gullet with booze, and proclaiming "I'M THE OWNER" at every whim. The following day, I had a meeting with him, and his 2 managers. They fired me, asking me why I was so hammered on shift, and when I looked at said "friend", he huddled in the corner, with his tail between his legs. From that point on, whenever he saw me at the bar, he would tell me "thanks for giving me your 23% at the bar, dog". Yes, this is the way he talks.

Since that moment in time, nothing has been good. You would think I could keep my stupid mouth shut, but I can't. I'm always that guy. I never really thought about it, until now. Now, when he is in the process of purchasing the business that I work at. The same business that helps me pay my bills, feed my son, help his mother, etc. I have no options at this point, but to ride it out. He has paraded around town, without signing shit, telling people that I have to look for a new job. I could call that karma, but I think it's different, in this sense. This is malicious, high school behavior done by the guy who is the captain of the football team. The guy that used to beat the shit out of me on a daily basis. I've watched my fellow coworkers practically give him a blow job to maintain their jobs, but that's not for me. I want him to come to me, but he won't.

Guys like that hang out with their employees for a reason. Their employees HAVE to be nice to them. Brutally honest (read: town assholes) don't. It's unfortunate, but that's the way it has to happen. He has already proclaimed to the town that I am going to need a new job, and to me, that's a real pussy way of going about it, especially for a job I've worked at for a while, and have had extreme loyalty to. I know he'll hire a GM to do the job for him, but, again, another pussy way around it. Can't always look like the bad guy, can you?

The fact of the matter remains that he has no respect for people's lives, or well beings. I guess at this point, I dare him to buy the company. I'll be happy to tell him to fuck off, in that punk rock style that he has always "cherished and loved". Black Flag would have called you an asshole, too, dick. I wish my buddy would have gotten away with taking that Clash poster from your beloved bar, that all your bartenders run your life around.