Date: Wed, 30 Aug 2000 08:58:06 EDT
From: Double A
Subject: Broken Dreams...Part 3

	Things didn't look so good on the job front; Almost two months had gone by,
and I still hadn't found anything.

	No wait, that's not entirely true. I hadn't found anything I could use.
Nope, that's not right either. I hadn't found anything that I wanted to use.

	Since returning from Calgary in December, I had found one job only, but I
had also been offered two full-time positions, which I had to refuse, since
Vanier College was more important than starting an entry-level position in a
dollar store.

	"You work for six months, and you could make assistant manager." They had
told me.

	Yeah, like I wanted to brag about that. In a year or so, maybe I could come
home and brag to my significant other, "Guess what, sweetie?! I made manager
of the dollar store today! Yup, I'm actually going to be making a whopping
26,000$ a year now!"

	Considering my goal, therapeutic child psychologist, paid upwards of
80,000-150,000$ a year, I think I could stand to set my sights slightly
higher than selling fucking cheap rip-offs of popular toys and ceramic
dishes that crack when you put stuff on them.

	Don't get me started on dollar stores.

	I also found a Telemarketing thing, but the deal is this: I can't do
Telemarketing, because I can hardly use the phone to call my family, let
alone total strangers who don't want to hear from me. I think I got that
from Aaron, actually. He was afraid of the phone, and over time, I guess I
became that way too.

	So, the telemarketing thing lasted as long as the training did. Then, I
gracefully quit, sat in my apartment and played with my pussy...cat.

	School was fast approaching, and I could see no way that I would be able to
pay for it, and this scared me. I plead with my parents to provide with some
financial help and, in this rare case, my dad hemmed and hawed, while my
mother, seeing my need, quickly handed over 3000$ for me to use, as I saw
fit. No, that's not true. What actually happened, was we went for dinner,
and I sobbed for twenty minutes, until she gave me the money.

	So, equipped with cash and with a positive outlook on life...somewhat, I
was able to leave my rathole apartment, no offense intended to my rats, and
head to Vanier College on February second, 2001.

	Just so we can be clear on this, 2001 is when the millennium actually
begins. There was no year 0, so 2000 is sort of a limbo year. Everybody who
celebrated the millennium on January first, 2000, are a bunch of jackasses!
By the way, my birthday is January twelfth, so I had recently turned 20.

	Now, this was an awkward scenario for me, because most of the people going
to Vanier were younger than me, so it might be hard to make friends. Heck,
if they were as receptive as that Chris guy, than my time there might have
to be spent alone.

	Speaking of Chris, in the weeks leading up to Vanier, I found myself
thinking about him more and more. I wasn't sure why, because I was pretty
clear on the fact that no smoker is attractive to me in the least, and also,
I find shyness really cute, but Chris sort of took it over the line and set
a new standard for shyness. So, why couldn't I stop thinking about him? I
really didn't know then, but I knew that I wouldn't let myself get involved
with him. Not as a friend, and especially not as more. It was too soon for
me, anyway.

	So, there I was again. I was standing in a lunchroom filled with thousands
of people, none of which were paying attention to me. I was all alone in a
big school, holding my little backpack, with my little paper and my little
pencils and pens, feeling like a kid. I had shaven my face and worn black
clothing, though, in an attempt to fit in with the youngsters, though. My
hair hadn't been cut for a while, due to lack of money, so it had acquired
an interesting look. I found that, as I got older, my hair was able to grow
a bit longer, so now I had sort of a "parted down the middle, bangs curled
up slightly, type of young Devon Sawa/Joey Gordon-Levitt" type of thing
going on.

	First thing I did, was get in line for the bookstore. My classes that
semester, were: english, psychology, sociology, french, PE, and history.

	I was looking most forward to psychology and history...because I like to
think about my past...

*Drum Play*

	Sorry, couldn't resist.

	The books for this semester, I estimated, would cost about $450, in total,
so I had brought $500, just to be safe. I stood in line and looked around
me. For the most part, the cafeteria, where the bookstore was located in,
appeared to be filled with mostly young kids. Now, by young kids, I, of
course, mean 17, which is the youngest allowed in the school. I saw that
there really shouldn't be too many problems finding a friend within the
first one or two days. I mean, I was still young at heart. I still played
computer games, went to see cool movies, used slang words, swore a
lot...plus, like most of the boys, I'm sure, I still tended to masturbate
once a day, or more.

	I found myself looking around for Chris, but couldn't see him. I stood in
line and tried to read Mick Foley's autobiography, "Have A Nice Day", but my
mind was distracted by thinking about why I thought I thought about Chris. I
deduced that it was because I had a tendency to focus on certain things or
people and, in this case, I had chosen to focus on Chris, because he was the
only person from this school that I knew, and also that I had had a
semblance of a conversation, and I use the term loosely, with him. It wasn't
that I had a "thing" for him, as kids tend to say these days, or that I
wanted to be closer to him. I was just that I was...

	Aww, that I was all bullshit and I knew it. By the time I reached the head
of the line and was waved into the bookstore, I had pretty much concluded
the worst. I was smitten with Chris. I didn't know why, and I really wished
I wasn't, but something about his presence had built this
uncontrollable....thing inside of me, and I didn't know what it was or how
to make it go away.

	So, with a somewhat heavy heart, I placed my order for the books, and even
bought some paper and a binder too. I came out with 478$ less, stuffed the
books and junk into my backpack, and made my way to my first class of the
day, which, according to my schedule, was Sociology.

	The class was held in the new building of Vanier, which meant that I had to
trudge through the whole school, out the rear, down a path past an old
Christian cemetery and toward the new building. From there, I had to climb
up 8 flights of stairs, then walk down the hallway to get to my class. I had
lost quite a bit of weight from lack of food, but my shape, I suppose,
wasn't the greatest, because by the time I arrived at N564, I was pretty
winded. I practically dragged my bag into the class, picked a desk at the
rear middle of the class, and sat down, promptly throwing my bag under my
chair, slamming my head down on my desk and prepared to die from exhaustion.

	 "Hey."

	I quickly looked up to see that the object of my thoughts, Chris, was now
sitting beside me. Wearing black, and still looking very pretty with his
blue eyes and long black hair, he was actually addressing me, which was
amazing, considering the fool I made of myself the last time.

	"You're taking Sociology?" was the brilliant thing I came up with to ask.

	"Yeah." was his reponse.

	Then, in an act of stupidity that had several of my brain cells actually
packing their bags and leaving my skull in disgust, I said, "Umm...What's
your name again? It's Chris, right?"

	The boy whose name I had pretended to forget, blinked and nodded, his face
still expressionless, "Yeah. You're David, right?"

	"Yeah." I replied, then added, "This is your first semester?"

	He nodded and asked, "Yours?"

	I nodded too and asked, "Do you know anybody who goes here?"

	He shook his head and asked, "Do you?"

	I shook my head and said, "It's sort of strange to be in a school where I
don't know anybody."

	Chris nodded, "Yeah. I'm okay with not knowing anybody, though."

	I shrugged and answered truthfully, "I'm not. I prefer to have at least one
friend in school, so I can at least talk to someone."

	He shrugged and said, "Well, you can talk to me, or something, if you want,
I guess, or whatever."

	I shrugged, "Okay. Thanks."

	"Yeah." was his reply.

	We both sat in silence for the next few seconds, just looking at each
other. Then, the teacher, a middle-aged woman who introduced herself as
Janice, walked in and I faced forward to appear attentive. I could see, out
of the corner of my eye, Chris looking at me for a few more seconds after I
turned away, before he did the same.

	And so, I guess, despite my best intentions, Chris and I sort of, I guess,
maybe became friends on that day, my first day of Vanier College.

	Or whatever....