29 December 2014 - 22:58
HHeadmusic tonight's "You Can't Always Get What You Want" by the Rolling Stones
NINJA: This was a while in comin'. Our relationship wit' Art's always been a weird one. I, fer one, don' trust 'im. He's B's friend. Well, B's his friend's more like. Art don' know how t'be a friend. Sal n' Grizz would talk t'the guy also, but they's didn' care as much as B. Ain' no one care as much as B.
I's guess dis shit all's started years back, b'fore we met Art, really. It all started wit' her. An' I know, I know... each relationship's diff'rent and yadda, yadda, yadda. But that's imposs'ble, really. Everyone marks you. She marked me, an' not in a good way, but I like t'think it made me stronger anyway. But I's did get wary. I mean, it took me so long t'cast her aside, that by the time I finally did, I realized I'd hurt everyone else here by hangin' on so long. 'Specially Jack. It was so hard fer me to see him hurt, an' to know I's was partly t'blame. So I's decided I wouldn' let it happen again. Not wit' her, not wit' anyone else. An' we all made a pact, the three of us frontrunners, and we's got some of the other adults t'sign on: never again, if we's were in a relationship dat was toxic t'all of us, we's wouldn' hang on fer th'sake of one or a few. Art walked righ' into that mess, he did. Poor fucker. Part'a me feels bad fer the guy, but that don' make 'im any less of a douchebag.
We've known Art fer as long as our youngest nephew, Kokoro-bo, has existed, if not longer. Ser'sly, I's think the Dud was pregnant when they's moved Art t'FDC. From the start, Grizz n' I established bounderies wit' the guy, in part thanks t'him. I's remember our first conversation went som'n like:
Art: "Hi, nice to meet you. Listen, I don't mean to be offensive, but I'm just here to work. I don't really care to talk to any of you, or know about your personal life. I'm just not interested."
Over time, that somehow morphed into a relationship. Cordial at firs', then Grizz started interjectin' politics n' whatnot, literature, an' suddenly this fucker was interested in what we had t'say after all. Grizz was, I dunno, beside himself at th'chance t'talk wit' someone who actually read books. (Don' find that many at my job, sadly, unless y'count crap like the Twilight saga n' Fitty-Shades-A-Gray as literature, which no one does.) Eventually, even Sal started talkin' t'the guy, an' finally, B was in, too. Now, B's very carin' n' shit, maternal. She worries 'bout people she ain't got no business worrin' 'bout. An' she grew attached t'Art because... well, fuck if I know. I's think it's b'cause she felt he needed her at the time, 'cause he was goin' through problems n' shit. An' B loves helpin' people. It be like crack t'her or some shit. But over time, I's started noticin' that Art kept gettin' in these fucked up situations b'cause he wanted to. An' he kept actin' a victim, after he was the one who kept runinnin' into these situations. He's a fuckin' masochist! I ain't got time fer that shit, babysittin' a grown-ass man who has "mommy" issues. I's started tellin' the others 'bout this. I's mean, it had gotten to the point where Grizz was almost completely out of the relationship, and even Sal was barely hangin' in there, 'cause all this dumbass wanted to talk about was how "woe the fuck is me, my life is hopelessly pathetic, an' look at me, wah, wah, wah." An' there was BB, lappin' it all up, like a fuckin' moron. Art never asked us how we's was doin'. He kept sayin' we were friends, but he never even tol' us his fuckin' wife's name, until his son was three years old. Keep in mind, I've known this fucker since before his son Jeremy was born. An' the only reason he tol' us his chic's name was because we fuckin' asked him to! I's mean, it got annoyin' after a few years of him referring t'her as "my chic", y'know what I'm sayin'?
Our so-called "friendship" has lasted throughout his entire common-law marriage, through his "re-boundin' ways", and now into a new romantic relationship (which apparently involves love bites or some shit). This entire time, Grizz an' Sal've withdrawn more n' more when they're around him. They're jaded, too. They see it, too. But I think what definately did it fer me was when Knightmare died.
Fuck, I's miss my damn dog. He was more Yang's and B's dog, really, but he was a good boy. Had him 12 years, almost. Since he was a month old bundle of terror. My poor baby got tumors in his noggin. We's had him put down quick, he was sufferin' so much. An' it wasn't jus' him. We's lost Patrick an' Shai this same year, too. BB's been a real mess. 2014 will forever suck balls as far as she's concerned. Those three animals were our longest livin' pets we'd ever had. Pat died just shy of turnin' eleven, Shai had been wit' us 'bout seven or eight years, an' then of course, Knightmare took the damn cake at eleven-almost-twelve. Y'know we's got Pat n' Puppers on the same damn year? 2003. Pat was jus' a month older than Knightmare. Losin' all three hurt, but the worst was my Puppers. That dog understood us in a way no one has. He knew us apart by the tone of our voice. He knew when we was BB, or when it was me. He was such a good dog. Loyal. BB was beyond devastated.
And throughout his illness, who was the Outsider we told about this? Art, of course. And when Puppers died, did he give a shit? No, he didn' even notice, the bastard. It wasn' until Dave, another buddy from work, came over to give us his condolences 'bout our dog, did this fucker find out. An' even then, he didn't say anythin' 'bout it 'til the followin' week. He was jus' so wrapped up in his bullshit, that he hadn' noticed. Seriously, Puppers died on a Sunday, we didn't see Dave until the Friday after, an' Art didn't say shit until the Monday after that. It made me reevaluate our entire relationship with him; had a lot of talks wit' Grizz, Sal, Yang, and Piojo. Even Yowlie kept voicin' his disapproval. An' I's talked t'B 'bout it, too, 'course. Asked her t'let me intervene. She was 'fraid to, 'cause she knows I's don' like Art t'begin wit'. But as time's gone by, things were jus' gettin' worse, an' more awkward. I knew I's had t'do somethin' 'bout it, an' keep BB from it. A pact is a pact, y'know.
So today, wit' B's permission, I's talked t'Art. I was way more polite than I's wanted t'be, but I's feel I was direct. Sal said it felt like we's was breakin' up, which made me laugh. I mean, I's guess we were, kinda. All's I's could think was, 'Anam Cara my ass!'
I's don' know where our relationship with Art will go from here, if there's anywhere fer it t'go. I's don' real' care. It's jus' like I tol' him durin' our conversation: I'm tired. I ain't mad or nothin'. I'm jus' tired.