More Online Dating: not my proudest moment.

• 
  Jun 25, 2011 – 10:29pm

  wait, are you serious about no sex until marriage? how's that for a non-one-liner? im drunk on a tuesday but we should chat right now because you're also online at 1:30 in the morning and you are pretty. im hilarious. lets chat.

  Sent to mkd1234
• 
  Jun 26, 2011 – 7:25am

  I almost never respond to people on here; but your message was just so moronic that I feel compelled to message you simply to tell you that you are a complete idiot. This is highly insulting that you would dare aim a message like this in my general direction. There is a reason you are still single. Take a look at yourself, you drunk dumb-ass. Go back to your usual pathetic sluts and don't even so much as look at my profile again.

  Report this
• 
  Jun 26, 2011 – 10:21am

  you mean so you don't want to get a cup of coffee? I just broke up with my girlfriend for 7 months and shes moving to a 3rd world country to teach English to poor people after she just graduated top of her class at Brandeis. shes a usual slut.
  
  I think you're single because you're a tight ass.
  
  "My Catholic faith is extremely important to me, and I'm constantly striving to become a better person and grow closer to God. " -what you said to me wasn't very Christian. turn the other cheek. preferably to one on your ass for me.
  
  i hope you have great time having dates with guys that are pretending to care about how you love labradors and bargain shopping. tell them more about your ping-pong skills.
  
  you should put out. take your pussy off its high pedestal.
  
  "*Most people back home knew me for always having a large SONIC Diet Coke in my hand!"
  -yeah, they weren't going to know you for being fun and interesting.
  
  I've known for many years that I was meant to bring people happiness through music--in whatever way possible.
  - wow, you really think you're god's gift to the world. have fun wearing a purity ring and marying jonas brother.
  
  chase

Homeless Adventures

The other day I saw man peeing on the sidewalk. Facing traffic. That's bold. A lot of guys can brag about peeing on a police car. But what about one that’s still moving?

It got me thinking about a few other encounters I have had with homeless people.

When I was 19, I went to Montreal with a few close friends. The whole weekend revolved around drinking and passing out. As we walked down St. Catherine's street we came across a homeless man drinking a 40oz on the stoop of a church. My buddy Steve was so drunk that he didn't realize the poor guy was homeless. He just thought he was a guy bringing the party outdoors, and at the time, he thought that that was bad-ass. He got in the guy's face and said, "Yeah man! You're livin' the fuckin' DREEEAM!!!"
 Awful.

Another time, I was walking through an intersection in Boston, and I saw a non-homeless (homeful?) man with a foot-long beard. That says a lot  about someone. It's a lot of time devoted (or neglected) to looking so crazy. This man was dancing in the middle of Mass Ave and Boylston. He was holding a crucifix in each hand. As he danced he shook the crucifixes merrily at the cars passing by. He was wearing a clean, matching, all black outfit. He was making a big scene. Next to me was a homeless man with a shopping cart. He turned to me and said, "Shiiiit! And they call the homeless people crazy!" You said it man.

Once, after I gave a man a quarter, and he asked me if I wanted to join his 'Runaways' cover band. Cha-cha-cha-cha Cherry bomb!

"Walk for Cancer" Guy: This is a guy who hangs out on Newbury Street and says, "Hey man, walk for cancer, walk for cancer, walk for cancer. Hey man, shake my hand. Aw you must be one of the good white people. You don't hate black people, do you? Let me just get your credit card information? No? What? You hate black people!? This motherfucker right here hates black people!"

Creepy "Bi-curious" Hipster

I would first like to apologize to my readers for not updating recently. I wanted to keep cranking out what i think to be quality posts. After a while of writers block, i was suddenly hit by some inspiration in the form of stranger approaching me at the Stetson East dining hall at Northeastern University.

For the record, I'm not making fun of gay people. I'm making fun of this guy...

Daniel, a freshman at Boston Conservatory School of Music, came over to me as I sat alone, watched the UConn Basketball game, and enjoyed my turkey sandwich. He sat uncomfortably close considering how many open seats there were at the time. i was a little annoyed but i did my best to ignore him. Then he stood up, reached into his, over-the-shoulder book bag, and said "Woah!" Then he glanced at me and saw my puzzled face brought on by the slight outburst. He apologized, "Sorry. I just had way more condoms in here than I thought." I ignored him. "...I'm about to try gay sex for the first time tonight. I've got the alochol and everything. I dont think i can go through with it sober."

"....What?" I stuck around for the material. He had shaggy brown hair and a dirty looking beard. He also had yellowish-brown neglected-looking teeth. Given the topic of conversation he started with me, he seemed less like a practical joker and more like a red flag kind of guy. I asked "So what sprung this curiosity?" He had a, "Hey girls! Don’t leave your drink lying around!" kind of look about him. Also, because of the "I'm about to try gay sex for the first time tonight" comment, he had a "Hey guys, don’t leave your drink lying around either…" vibe going on too.

He said, "Well I’ve already plenty of sex with women. Where do you go from there?"

"Well if you're straight, more sex with women..." Yeah, I'm sure this creepo gets laid constantly :/. I assumed the opposite. i thought maybe he was going prison gay because perhaps consentual sex with women may not have been going so well.

"I'm straight, I’m just a little..."

"Prison gay? Bi-curious?"

"Yeah, that’s it. Bi-curious."

I'll skip the dialogue to give you an overview. He told me many TMI's, some too gross to post. One of which was how on Monday he accidently slipped it into a girl's butt and decided he liked it. Just as he said, "Then I accidently slipped it in her ass. I was wondering why it got tighter!" a girl from the table behind him reached for the chair next to him. She asked "Can we borrow this?" Then she retracted to find a chair elsewhere. I recognized her from one of my classes. Sweet...

I asked i I could write about him and he was like, "Yeah sure...?" looking at me like I was the the odd one in this situation. He told me his name was Daniel. I gave him my blog address. I told him to check it out. As I left, he offered me some of his condoms, which he tried to hand me in a huge wad. I declined.

How I got my name!

Alright. So my full names is Michael Alexander Chase. I go by Alex Chase and most people just call me Chase. A lot of people end up thinking that my first name is Chase.  I asked my parents why I go by my middle name and its not an interesting story. They said it was because they discovered shortly after  my birth certificate was finalized, that Michael was the most popular boy's name in America. ....And also it would make my initials MAC....?

This name situation has lead to some terrible first impressions. The most common of which is the simple delay from trying to decide which name to call myself. Introducing myself goes some like "Hi! I'm, Ah... Alex."
"Are you sure its Alex?"
"...Yes."
Not a big deal. This one's mostly my fault for being indecisive.

However, one time I introduced my self, "Hi, I'm Alex." to a girl at a party.
All was going fine until my buddy came over and said, "Ahh, I see you met Chase!"
Girl-"I thought your name was Alex!"
Me- "It is. It's Alex Chase."
Girl- "Let me see you're drivers license. This says Michael Chase. Creep!"
Girl walked away before an explanation.

Also, college interviewer calling my house:
Me: Hello?
Interviewer: Hello. This is John form Clark University. Is Michael Chase available?
Me: Who? Oh, me. Yes I'm right here.
Interviewer: ....Oh wow. Ok. (sigh)...
Answers to own name: Check!

My first day of high school:
Teacher takes attendance...

Teacher: Angela Chan?
Angela: Here.
Teacher: Ariana Chao?
Ariana: Here!
Teacher: Michael Chase?
Me: Here.
Teacher: Do you prefer Mike or Michael?
Me: ...Alex...actually.
(Class laughs)
Teacher: ...How about I just call you "Mike the smartass"? You know its the first day Mr. Chase and I can't even get through attendance without you starting trouble.
Me: ...Ah....Sorry.

Underqualified: Teacher's Aide Part 2

Okay, when we left off, I was getting sexually harassed by an 11 year old. The next part is harder to tell because I have to protect this little girl's anonymity. She told me her name. Trust me when I say that this little girl, who asked to sit on my lap, had the most absurd name for a girl you have ever heard in your life. We'll call her "Fluffy". Her real name is slightly better/weirder than that. Just as Fluffy tried to feel up my bicep, recess ended. I was like thank god. And I will avoid the shit out that kid in the future.

After recess, I was handed a new classroom schedule. I was supposed to tutor students in math right after recess. And Fluffy was in the class. She gave me a mischievous half-wave when I walked into the room. We had plenty of adventures. One time I told her I wanted to be a psychologist. She said, "Ohhh, you want to talk to crazy people for the rest of your life?"

I was like, "Yeah, call me in a few years." Oops.

Over the next few months I learned the job well. I was a natural. Sure kids test your patirents, but there is also something about a school environment that is so positive to be in. Also, the teachers were cool/crazy. It took me a while to get comfortable, but I got to smoke pot with some of them. In addition, I heard some crazy stories. I learned about how Fluffy's dad was world famous and her mom was a secret lesbian who had an affair with a teacher who no longer worked there. One teacher used to deal coke. One almost got arrested for having sex in public while on vacation. All this stuff goes on, and every morning no matter how hung over or aburd they acted the night before, they still walk into the classroom and say, "1-2-3. Eyes on me!" and "Hey guys, you get what you get, and you dont get upset!"

I liked the job so much that did my second co-op there. That was when the most rediculous situation of all occured.
 I was pulled out of the two classrooms that I had been working in to be a one-on-one aide for a child in a kindergarten class. I was told that this one particular boy had been exhibiting some "oddly sexual behavior". I was told to stop him from whispering  words like "penis" and "butt" into other kid's ears. Also to stop him from pulling up his shorts and rubbing his butt up against furniture. You know, normal stuff...

On my second day in the kindergarten class, one little boy said something fucking hilarious. I was sitting on one of those kindergarten chairs with my knees scrunched up by my shoulders, and I fell right out of the chair.

The teacher wrote a big block letter "W" on the blackboard. Kids were supposed to raise their hands and say words that begin with  "w". Then the words would be written inside the block letter "W". Kids started off with, witch, wall, will, wood, etc. Then this wise ass Russian kid who moved to Boston 5 months ago raised his hand. He giggled and said "Wagina!" He mixed up his v's and w's! Adorable.

But that kid wasn't the kid I was supposed to be watching. The kid I was watching; lets call him "Rodney". One time at recess, I saw him try to rally his friends to play what he called "weird wrestling" under the jungle gym. Another time, I saw him hold his Johnson quite tightly. a routine set in where I was preventing stuff on the reg. One teacher would see me in the hall and be like, "Hey man. How's pee-pee patrol going?"

I'd be like "Oh you know...same old shit."

Then one time I was escorting the kindergarten class from music, and the music teacher, stopped me to be like, "Hey, Alex. What did he do exactly?"

I was like "I dont know. He rubs his butt up against furniture and stuff. He wants play weird wrestling or some shit."

She was like, "...Oh. thats not what I heard."

"Why? What did you hear?"

Then she explained to me that Rodney had been taking other boys into the bathroom with him, pulling down eachother's pants, and KISSSING EACHOTHER'S DICKS! No one wanted to be the one to tell me. The principal was like the teacher will explain it all to you. The teacher thought the principal explained that part to me. No one wanted be like, "Basically what we're dealing with here is a dick-kisser. He kisses dicks. He gets boys to kiss his dick. Dick-kisser."

So I made sure that didn't happen anymore and thats what I did for co-op.

Less Than Qualified: Teacher's Aide Part 1.

This guy meets children...


Before I begin this next post, i want you guys to know that everything in this story is true.

Northeastern is famous for its co-op program. The school sets students up with employers to work in their field of study. Employers get cheap labor and students get experience. I'm a psychology student. When I became one, I didn’t have a game plan for what I wanted to do for work. I just thought the stuff was interesting. So when co-op time rolled around I just wanted any job. I was pretty sure I would be bad at it regardless of what it was. I never had a job I liked. My job history includes picking strawberries in a field along side illegal immigrants and working at Jo-Anne Fabrics. Oh! And I sprained my ankle playing basketball during the same summer that I was working as a strawberry picker. So I had to sell strawberries on the side of the road instead of picking them. In doing so, I got robbed by a woman in her 80's.

This sort of job history made me dread getting a job, but I went through the resume process anyway. I sent out my resume to any company that seemed remotely interesting. I sent out 40 resumes and received no responses. Then I realized I misspelled the word "experience" on my resume. Hilarious irony aside, I totally fucked myself. I sent out 15 more resumes with the correct spelling of "experience" and I got two interviews. (Even now is I write this blog, I'm like, "Is it an 'i' or an 'e' after the 'p'?")  One interview was at Boston Medical Center, working in the psych ward. The job was suicide watch. I was to make sure people in danger of hurting themselves didn't. The other job was working at a grade school as a teacher's assistant.

Between you and me, I would have rather watch people flip out and try to kill themselves than work with children. But I only got hired at the grade school. How? No fucking idea. I had never worked with kids before and don’t have any younger siblings. I told the vice-principal who was administering my interview that I did stand-up comedy as an example of how I'm an outgoing person. I didn't mention that I quit due to stage fright.

So I showed up the first day and I looked like I was 16 when I was 20. Plus I was 1 of 4 men who are on staff. No one thought I worked there. Everyone keeps asking me if I was visiting an old teacher of mine. It turned out that the vice-principal who hired me, quit over the summer and no one knew what to do with me. My first day, I ended up doing paper work all day until lunch. Then I had lunch and recess duty with the 5th and 6'th graders. My first interaction with a student went like this. I went up to a boy sitting by himself at lunch and said, "Hey, I'm Alex. So. What can you tell me about the school?
"Well its K though 8."
"Well I know that...Anything else?"
He sighed. Then said, “Well... I'd say about 70 percent of the kids at this school are gay."
I said, “thats above average." Then I walked away.

At recess I saw a boy trip a girl playing soccer, she went down crying and I yelled, "Are you okay? What a douche!" No other teachers heard but all the kids did. Some laughed. Others asked what a douche was. Oh shit! I called a kid a douche!
When recess was over, I followed the "douche" back to his class room and cut him off to apologize. I had to get him not to tell on me. As I tried to do this, he started drawing a mustache on a girl's picture hanging on the wall. Another teacher stopped him, yelled at him, and sent him away. For the next week I waited to get fired. But kid told on me. Saying "douche" gave me some street cred.

At recess on my second day, a 6th grade girl came over to me while I was sitting at a picnic table. I was watching some kids play soccer. Her friends were standing in a quasi-Flying V formation behind her as she walked over. She got up right in my face. She said, "Can I sit on your lap?" In a slutty voice might I add!
"Ffff NO!"
"Why?"
"Because I think it's illegal!"
"No its not."

To be continued....

UPRISING

Thanksgiving was about two weeks ago and the winter holidays are approaching. This time of year has made me think a lot about my family, friends, and childhood. It also has made me think about how I recently beat the shit out of a six-year-old girl and while feeling no remorse for my actions. By "six-year-old girl", I mean my older sister Bridget, and by "recently", I mean eighteen years ago.

I had a happy childhood, but I was also a victim of my sister's oppression. At one point, Bridget decided I would make a good slave. But at age four, I was a terrible slave. I was bad at taking direction and criticism, and if you worked me too hard, I would cry and piss myself.

When I was four, my mother emancipated me. She told me that a sister was not like a mother and I didn’t have to listen to her.  But Bridget wasn't willing to give up what she had claimed as her property.

I remember this one instance vividly. My sister and I were in the living room. She said to me, "Alex. Go up stairs and get me my Barbie doll." This was a demand, not a request. And it was given as a demonstration of her authority.
I said, "No Bridget. You're not my mother. I already have a mother."
But Bridget insisted. She kept demanding and I kept refusing.

Bridget eventually knew that she had to switch to more drastic forms of persuasion. She averted eye contact from me for a few seconds. She had a furrowed brow. One could tell that she was thinking hard about what she should do next. I stood about two feet away from her. I was silent and wondering what was going to happen next. What it over? She looked back down at me and we held eye contact for a split second. Then she slapped me across face. Not in the way a pimp hits a hooker. It was more like the cliché way a woman slaps a man in a movie after he JUST PUSHES HER TOO FAR! I think she expected that I would just stand there and be like, “I deserved that,” with a look of wise humility. Then I would have gotten her the doll and apologized. Thats how it happens in the movies.
When you're that young, brawn doesn’t win fights. Rage does. Bridget tried to get away, but as she back-pedaled she tripped over the leg of our coffee table. While she was on her back, I ran over. She was yelling, "Alex! No! Please!" I grabbed both of her ankles as she tried to kick me away. Then I stomped on her vagina. Hard.