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Thread: Two stories about yesterday | |
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DagothGares

   
      
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posted July 29, 2013 01:18 PM |
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Two stories about yesterday
I find what happened to me yesterday fascinating and I wanted to tell people about it, so I framed in a literary style, because that's the most coherent style I could bring it, but I get it, if it's TL;DR
"Today's the first day it wasn't scorching hot or soaking wet in 2 weeks. I was a can of venomous worms earlier, but now I have a deep sense of calm in my head now that I was all alone and sitting on the bus. I wasn't thinking of anything or anyone. I was thinking I didn't have to think of anyone or anything for the next few hours. I just spent five days with friends, going places, barbecuing, playing tabletop games and multiplayer games. I was dead tired and exhausted from all this social activity, which I didn't realise until I was alone. I'm glad I didn't ask her out earlier that day. It'd have been warped and weird and stupid and awkward and there was no time. I have a fat book in my pocket, some thousand page monster by some Russian-American author. She read about thirty pages of it and said it was interesting. I wasn't reading that book now. I wasn't texting or checking my phone. I just leaned back and saw the scenery slide by. I got on a train somehow in the mean time and I may as well have been sleeping, but I didn't, because I hadn't felt such a great sense of calm in weeks, maybe months. It's probably the meds. It's probably because I'm reasonably sure she likes me. It's probably because of the lack of any toxic elements in today.
I get off the train, get myself a coke, because I'm an idiot since it's a hot day and the only thing drinkable in my backpack is half a bottle of vodka no one liked. Admittedly, I don't like caramel in my vodka either, but hey, the alcoholism isn't picky. I go underground to take the tram home. Been travelling for about an hour and a half, feeling good and light. When there I nestle into a corner, about to grab this thousand page monster, but then I hear someone shouting. "Why doesn't it work? It worked last time I was here!" he said in English and whilst sobbing. I look up and see a man who is about fifty and standing near a broken escalator. I looked away. Maybe it's none of my business. I look up again, see that everyone is probably thinking the same. I'd feel awful and bad, if I didn't go and help that man and I am pretty sure I have almost reached nirvana, anyway, through either meds or the catharsis of being alone after not having been alone for five days. I walk up to him, me clean-shaven, carrying a huge backpack, handsome and upstanding citizen and all that. I ask what's wrong, in English. He tells me his femur is shattered and his foot is deformed and can't get up the stairs with his groceries. He then rolled up his trouser leg and showed me that, yes, his leg seemed to have grown in impossible angles and it looked useless. I see a lot of beer in the bags, but I don't judge. A friendly-looking black girl walks up to me and tells me someone is on their way. My eyes open a bit and I say: "Oh, so someone's coming?" The man says someone went up there, but hehighly doubts that he's going to be back. I ask if he can make it if I support him. He says that won't be necessary. He'd appreciate it, if I helped him carry his bags.
Then some middle-aged woman passes us, leans over to me and says, in Dutch: don't worry, I called the police. I am quite taken aback by that. I always thought people from my city would be less awful than that. He of course hears the Dutch word for police, which is "politie" and sounds almost identical to the English word (the t is pronounced like an s, for some reason.) I tell him that's nonsense and most likely, it'll just be help that's coming up. He then settles down a little, then some other middle-aged, white woman comes up to the both of us. (Why? Did I look like I was in need of being saved by this man I willingly walked up to?) She says: "It's fine, don't worry. They'll help you." All these people telling me I shouldn't help someone really rustled my jimmies. The man says, rightfully, that she doesn't know anything about him, says he's been beaten up by the police. Says a lot of things. She asks him to be quiet. He talks louder. I am just quiet. Some people are really stupid. What was that woman expectingfrom him to happen? This man to smile and be grateful to her? You think he'll be quieter when you give him that kind of attention? It's like responding to a flamer on a forum. Anyway, the woman then says: "It's all right. I know, I know." In the mean time, I'm missing my tram, because this woman has decided to make everything a bit harder for me to just get this man out of here and on his way, so I can sit down and read my book in peace. The nerve of some people.
Anyway, the man says she doesn't know anything about him. Well, he is shouting now. He is shouting and saying he's been run over by a truck, that the police are responsible for his condition. I don't really care, I don't like the police. The women then says: I do know! The man shouts some expletives to her, she half-heartedly says them back to him. Her English wasn't that good. When that's over and done with, the man turns to me. He tells me that he hates my language and that it's snow. I smile and tell him I love my language. He then says it's a snow language that sounds silly. I say, eh, I guess you're right. Let's go up. So he hands me his bags and his crutch and hauls himself up by the railing with one hand, one step at a time. Each step seeming very painful indeed. He then tells me his life story as disjointedly as he can, I'm pretty sure. We get up after a 5 minute struggle. I then see two male nurses walk up to us. I am self-conscious of my 6-feet tall, 140-pound skinny frame against their meatier frames. These reasons are irrational. The man says that, well, their trouble was all for naught. He's been helped up. He shouts somewhat again. The male nurses are a lot smarter than the second and third woman that went up to us downstairs and wisely just nod, agree and go away. The man didn't say offensive things to them, though.
He then says he likes me, asks my name. I don't lie and tell him. My name is Dutch as all hell. He tells me his name. It's a very British one. He keeps telling me his life story. He still can't keep it very coherent. I gather his living conditions are rather poor. He talks about girlfriends, about crazy people where he lives, about "Antwerp casuals" (Basically, hooligans without a jersey, who just like to fight. I learned a new expression for my troubles it seems.) about people sleeping on cardboard and blankets where he lives. The man is missing most of his front teeth.
I help him downstairs. I think I said about 15 words to him in total. I'm reasonably sure he just needed someone to tell his story to. I didn't get his story, but well, at least he got to tell it to someone. He just keeps talking and talking, offers me a beer. I say, quite truthfully, I've been drinking way too much these past few days and need to settle down somewhat. He sits down at his stop. Tells me he'd like me to wait with him. Sure, I say. I missed my tram anyway and it'd be silly if he couldn't get on the tram now. He keeps talking. I just nod, smile, say "aha" and "oh, right" and "that sucks" at appropriate intervals. His tram comes. I signal the driver and gesture towards the man with the crutch. He nods, understands and keeps the door open. I thank him twice, once by shouting it at him, the second time, by smiling, nodding and folding my hands in his direction (the driver got it, smiled and nodded) as I walk away.
Anyway, he got on. He asked if I would go with him. I said no, I had to go home. He then told me he wished I saw him at "Groenplaats"/ "Green Place"/ Center of public transportation of my city again sometime. I said I'd think about it. I feel sort of bad, for lying, but whatever. I got back to my stop. The tram was going to be there in five minutes. I read, get on, keep reading. I then decided to ask her out, for some bizarre reason. A whole other story happened, in between, but she said yes that evening."
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If you have any more questions, go to Dagoth Cares.
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fred79

      
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posted July 29, 2013 02:21 PM |
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i baked chocolate chip cookies for the fam yesterday. i made 4 dozen. all i ate yesterday were cookies, and all i drank was milk. it was a good day.
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mvassilev

   
      
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posted July 29, 2013 03:18 PM |
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Wait, so this guy was beaten up by the police, his foot was run over by a truck, and he had nurses? What a strange series of occurrences.
What's the other story?
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Eccentric Opinion
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Drakon-Deus

 
      
Undefeatable Hero
CONTINUITY IS POWER
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posted July 29, 2013 03:20 PM |
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Yesterday is just a memory. All that ever matters is today.
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Horses don't die on a dog's wish.
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Lexxan

    
      
Honorable
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Unimpressed by your logic
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posted July 29, 2013 03:24 PM |
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pimp
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Coincidence? I think not!!!!
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DagothGares

   
      
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posted July 29, 2013 03:43 PM |
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mvassilev said: Wait, so this guy was beaten up by the police, his foot was run over by a truck, and he had nurses? What a strange series of occurrences.
What's the other story?
The one I only told the vague outline of.
The male nurses were just paramedics. It was weird. He told me all of this stuff that happened to him. I think he can be labelled as an unreliable narrator. I could sympathise though.
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veco

 
     
Legendary Hero
who am I?
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posted July 29, 2013 06:36 PM |
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If Morgan Freeman isn't available I'd like you to write down and narrate my day-to-day adventures.
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none of my business.
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fred79

      
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posted July 29, 2013 06:41 PM |
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veco said: If Morgan Freeman isn't available I'd like you to write down and narrate my day-to-day adventures.
you have adventures? can i come with you? will there be treasure?
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seraphim

 
    
Supreme Hero
Knowledge Reaper
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posted July 29, 2013 06:47 PM |
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veco

 
     
Legendary Hero
who am I?
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posted July 29, 2013 06:55 PM |
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Of course, everyone has adventures!
But why would you want to follow someone else when you have your own to live through? That's part of a man's romance to face the world off alone and mine requires one to wear nothing but a speedo at all times.
And the treasures at the end of my road are the hearts of those young lads like yoursef inspired by my shining example!
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none of my business.
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fred79

      
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posted July 29, 2013 07:01 PM |
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speedos, you say? would you care if i wore a thong like a one-piece bathing suit, pulled tight over my shoulders?
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DagothGares

   
      
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No gods or kings
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posted July 29, 2013 07:16 PM |
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veco said: If Morgan Freeman isn't available I'd like you to write down and narrate my day-to-day adventures.
How much are we talking here?
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veco

 
     
Legendary Hero
who am I?
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posted July 29, 2013 07:22 PM |
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@fred
That was Borat and it was disturbing. I'm aiming for magnificent.
@Dagoth
Just because it's you I'll let you off free of charge. At least for the first month, then we'll see how things work out.
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none of my business.
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fred79

      
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posted July 29, 2013 07:24 PM |
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@ veco: lol, i was aiming for disturbing. it's funnier that way.
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DagothGares

   
      
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No gods or kings
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posted July 30, 2013 11:41 AM |
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Veco, tempting though that offer may be. I shall decline.
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If you have any more questions, go to Dagoth Cares.
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Drakon-Deus

 
      
Undefeatable Hero
CONTINUITY IS POWER
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posted July 30, 2013 12:07 PM |
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Try living in Romania. Everything is an adventure...
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Horses don't die on a dog's wish.
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xerox

  
      
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posted July 30, 2013 01:48 PM |
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Meh, we have plenty of romanian people on the street in Sweden anyway because apparently, they get bullied/discriminated in their home country so they have to come here.
I have a story to share. I was going to the grocery shop to get a package (since privatization, grocery stores are also post offices and pharmacys). My mum and sister was waiting in the car, cause we were going to look at a manor. So I said it would take five minutes. Then I had to wait thirty minutes because the woman, who stood first in the line of two people, couldn't get her package. She was a social person, obviously feeling bad. Me being a typical sociophobic swede, I didn't say much else than "Yes...". Then she left and I got my stuff in one minute. Then in the car I opened the package. It was a mobile phone headset imported from the UK, my first purchase of Amazon. Meh, shipping took almost two weeks so not buying stuff there again.
Then my sister was jealous at me buying stuff. I told her I bought it with my own money. Then she said she didnt have any money. Then I say she had to save money and not spend them on chinese made plastic toys and candy. Then she said she had to do it when being with friends. Then I said no, you don't. You can make your own decisions. Then she used her favorite argument "I'm just a child, I can't be expected to do anything rational". Then I said that she shouldn't let age limit her like that. Then my mum said we were both right and I thought that conclusion was unfair and untrue.
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Over himself, over his own
body and
mind, the individual is
sovereign.
- John Stuart Mill
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veco

 
     
Legendary Hero
who am I?
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posted July 30, 2013 02:33 PM |
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Xerox, if DagothGares isn't available I'd like you to wri..
...
forget it.
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none of my business.
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JoonasTo

   
      
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What if Elvin was female?
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posted August 13, 2013 08:39 PM |
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Just got to reading this.
Man, you Belgians really are racist.
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