Dec. 27, 1995
Memories
I remember like it was just yesterday. It was our first date. It had the perfect romantic setting of a candle lit
dinner, view of the ocean, a violinist playing passionately, and a table next to the restroom. She looked elegant that night, like a covergirl
...for "Recycling Weekly." Her face was radiant and glowing...must be from the glitter of
her four nose rings and the moonlight bouncing off her shaved head. She didn't need any make-up at all or it would have ruined her complexion that
resembled Richard Nixon's. And her stunning dress, well, I guess "dress" is not really in her vocabulary because she was wearing something
like "Mother Theresa meets Mistress Godiva," but with a touch of class. I was so filled with emotion that I had to hold her hand and kiss it.
Her hand was soft and gentle with a tattoo that says "Die You Scum-sucking Pig!" So I stared at her lovely eyes, although I was having trouble
because she's cross-eyed, and I said, "I love you, man!" I knew she felt the same way about me because after she threw up, I could see a big
smile coming out of her face that you could almost see her greenish-purple teeth. And just like the ending of all great love stories and marriages,
we lived happily ever after...for two hours.
For a long time, I didn't know what went wrong between us because we seemed perfect for each other until I met her parole officer just
recently. He told me that Satan (that's her name) shouldn't be blamed for all her problems because it was her parents' fault. It turned out
that her father was a Cowboys fan and her mother was a Raiders fan. No wonder she had all that rage, anger, and frustration inside of her.
How can anybody be so unlucky? I didn't get to sleep that night thinking what a cruel world we live in, and how can people torture their
children like that. Now, I can understand her pain. And why didn't I recognize these signs during our date because I could have helped
her, but now it is too late. Damn it! I should have noticed when she was choking during dinner just like the Raiders and her constant
complaining and making excuses just like the Cowboys.
I had a chance to visit her in a rehab center, and she seemed to be getting better. After years in a mental institution just like any Raider,
she's recovering quite nicely. I asked her if there's any way I can help her for her quick recovery. She begged me to take her to a 49er
playoff game because after years of living with her parents and watching teams that are losers and chokers, it is time for a change. At
that moment, I tried to hold back the tears, but I failed because of pure joy and happiness...and because I'm a wimp. I also realized
that she really has a chance to be a part of this beautiful world again. She can now stand proud like the rest of us. God bless America!
It doesn't have to be a pair of tickets because one is really enough. I'll just think about her throughout the game so it's like her spirit is with
me. Hey, she can even just watch the game on TV so I don't know what the big deal is. Plus, I don't think I should bring her with me because
it might ba bad luck for the 49ers since her parents are Cowboys and Raiders fans. What if she starts having flashbacks...after all, she was
a former postal worker so who knows what can happen!
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