“The Journal of Wall Grimm” 195: Distractibility and Seeking Thrills

July 15th, 2014

 

I went camping over the weekend with a crew of people I haven’t hung out with in a while.  It’s tough to hang out when there’s usually drinking involved.  I said they could bring beer on the trip but I had to have me some O’Doul’s.  It helped a lot, and I even forgot sometimes I wasn’t drinking real beer, except it tastes like Rolling Rock and I never drank Rolling Rock unless it was someone else’s beer that they offered to me.  I like lagers and stouts.  Also, the lack of a buzz stood out to me as well.  When alcohol goes through your blood you feel it.  You don’t get that sensation from any non-alcoholic beverage.

Anyway, John, Jay, Danika, Jeff, Morgan, Ayla, and even Randy was there, though he fucking hates me.  But we tolerated each other and co-existed without any problems.  Pete had to work so he didn’t come, and Cola isn’t big on camping, plus she wanted to stay home and hang out with our landlady Astrid, who is now Cola’s new best friend.

We left for camping Thursday, returned on Sunday, and yesterday morning I went to Blues Monday.  Then I went to go get Bogart.  Astrid insisted I use her convertible to go pick him up and I was more than willing to oblige her.  I don’t think I’ve ever driven a convertible before.  Maybe I did and I forgot with this mush of a brain I have at times.  One thing I do know is that Bogart has never ridden in a convertible before.  I’m learning there’s a lot of things that Bogart has never done.  Most of his life has been about treatment, not so much about experience.  In fact, I’m wondering about some things he’s said to me in the past that may or may not have been his delusions.  A lot of his stories contradict things his mother has said.  She’s told me that he lies and is also delusional.  Maybe I’ll learn truths or maybe I’ll never know what his reality actually is.  A great example is when he told me he’d go out drinking with his friends.  But how was that possible when he’s still only 22 and he’s been in juvie, jail, and institutions since his teen years?  I’m not sure when he first went into juvie, but regardless there are inconsistencies.  Also, my first impression of his mother was that she didn’t care about him, but it’s seeming to me now that she does care, yet is overwhelmed.  It’s all confusing but I guess it essentially doesn’t matter.  She’s maintaining guardianship but entrusting his care to me, so he’s pretty much my responsibility now.

And yeah I went to go get him yesterday with Astrid’s convertible.  I pulled in the driveway and I was barely out of the car when he ran over, tackled me, pinned me down and kissed me, then punched me in the face.  Then he called me a fucking bender.  I can just imagine that he was pacing around watching at the windows for me like a little kid or an excited dog.

He got off me and was amazed at the convertible, but couldn’t remember the word convertible and was saying he didn’t know I had one of those cars that have no top.  I told him the word and he was like, “yeah ‘at’s right conver’abul, a swanky cah, let’s crack on then.”  And he jumped up into the car, like you do with convertibles, except he was kinda clumsy and he fell into the car face first with his feet sticking out awkwardly.  He sat behind the wheel and told me to give him the keys because he wanted to drive.  His mother had followed him out and said he didn’t have his license.  I said maybe we can work on that and he was excited about that, but she shook her head at me discretely and said he’s too distractible to drive.  I believe her.

He only had one medium sized duffle bag of stuff, nothing else.  His mother had sent along a new bedroom set last week with some movers.  She’s keeping his set at her home in case he needs to come home for any reason.  He kissed her goodbye and we were off.  We live about 45 minutes away from her place.  One of the first things he did was unbuckle his seatbelt and stand up on the seat while I was driving.  He stretched out his arms like DiCaprio in “Titanic” and was shouting like he was at a sporting event or concert or something.  I pulled over to make him sit down and buckle up.  I feel so responsible and tame.  I used to think I was the wild one, but now I feel like the father of a teenager.  It’s very strange and I don’t know how I feel about it yet.  I’m going to be 25 in August and I think I still have some of my own personal recklessness just under my surface that is awaiting the opportunity to reveal itself.  I don’t feel ready to be a grown up yet, though I try, but the commitment wavers from time to time.

Anyway, the next thing he did was point out this girl to me while I was driving.  He was like, “bloody ‘ell look at ‘er tits!”  So of course I had to look and they were worth nearly getting into an accident for, but yeah he’s distractible and distracting.  He called to her, basically harassing her, but I think because of his looks and his accent she smiled like she enjoyed it.  He insisted we get her and bring her home because he needed to get laid.  I told him he’ll get laid, but not then.

Three minutes after that, my cell rings and I answer it and it’s him.  He said, “Oi Constable, it’s your ol’ mate Bogart.  I’m ridin’ in a conver’ibul.  Wotcha fink o’ ‘at!?”  Sometimes his th’s sound like f’s to me.  I told him that’s great but he should put down the phone and enjoy the ride.

The rest of the ride home was filled with more shit like that.  He saw dogs he thought were cool; lots of women who were amazingly not pissed off at the shit he called out to them, though maybe they didn’t understand what he was saying; places he wanted to stop at to check out; and places he wanted to get food from.  He made other phone calls to me and constantly played with everything he saw in the car, messing around with the radio and I had to deter him from digging through Astrid’s glove box.

Then, ten minutes before we got home, he fell asleep.  His mother had told me that he was energetic from anticipation but his medication tends to make him a little sleepy.  I don’t see much change in him from when I first met him at the institution, although I know he’s not experiencing any paranoia or delusions or hallucinations.  All I know is that by the time I got him back to the apartment, I was exhausted and needed a nap myself.

And now I have to go before I describe when Bogart met Astrid, Cola, and Pete.  He already met Pete but didn’t remember him.  I have to go because Bogart’s leaning over the balcony and I can tell he’s planning to jump off.  Not for injury but for the thrill.  He’s a thrill seeker with no sense of safety and will endanger himself without any forethought.  So yeah, more later.

My theme song is “Because You’re Young” by Cock Sparrer.  For both me and Bogart.

 

*******

previous Grimm 194: Irrelevant Thoughts and No Excuses http://wp.me/p41c99-Yq

next Grimm 196: Confusing People and New Flatmates http://wp.me/p41c99-Zu

For a list with links to all the previous journal entries go to: http://wp.me/P41c99-J

Check out the Character Directory Pages to learn about characters mentioned in each post.

 

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Categories: JOURNAL ENTRIES 186-210 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

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7 thoughts on ““The Journal of Wall Grimm” 195: Distractibility and Seeking Thrills

  1. Reblogged this on SageDoyle.

  2. Handfuls of spontaneity

  3. Hey great story! Is Bogart imitating a Cockney accent, sure doesn’t sound Boston, lol. Seems like you have u’r hands full, just think of all the awesome material you get to write about. Enjoy the chaos! :)

    • I’m so glad you said Cockney, because he is actually Cockney. I hear the accent in my head but it’s challenging to spell it out, so I’m glad it comes across. And just in case you don’t know, this is fiction. I know it’s confusing because when Hasty came to visit me, that was real, but otherwise, that was the only nonfiction stuff. Wall Grimm’s fiction, and I’m going to enjoy writing the Bogart character because he’s capable of just about anything. Thanks so much!

      • Oh thanks for clarifying lol. You write so convincingly, it’s like recounting a page from your life. Keep up the great work… and what a relief! Besides, who names their kid Bogart these days? Haha.:)

        • A lot of people think it’s real until I explain, and I take it as a huge compliment, so thanks! And I agree, I don’t think anyone would be named Bogart either. It’s a nickname, his real name is Neil. Thanks again!

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