Mjarc
I love Kankakee
Though I "technically" don't live within the city limits of Kankakee (my municipality is a half mile or two away), it is still the place to go to find people, to make long lost contacts, and to be yourself. I spent a good portion of the evening discussing women with a former co-worker from a newspaper I worked at in high school. It was a unique job that they only hired one high school student every two years and luckily, they chose me. Brendan was the head of the sports section, and was seriously an all-around, stand up type of guy. He, literally, is good people, and for that, the man has earned my respect. Though he's ten years my senior, this is the first year in the past six that he has spent Christmas Night without a significant other. We met at a local bar and began rumaging through antecdotes and insights into the psyche of the opposite sex ***1***.
Brendan did 90% of the talking. I pretty much sat and listened, because after twenty minutes, I could tell that one of the main things the guy needed was a solid ear to hold for a few minutes. I've got his back. I've got your back, too. He talked about his ex, and how he should've just gotten over the marriage hump, and he was speaking with depth, and with compassion, and he seemed remorseful, and I think that the best present I've given anyone all year long was my ear to Brendan tonight. I nodded, and I listened intently, and I felt the guy's pain. I did. And it made me feel tired inside to hear about how he goes to bars in Kankakee alone to try and meet women, but at the same time it made me happy because he's doing something that I can never seem to do.
By the end of the night, lo and behold, he's standing at the bar alone, after I had gone to the pisser, talking quietly to a young men named, oddly enough, Brendan. I'm fairly certain he got her number, and, if I know the guy at all, I'm fairly certain he'll call her sometime in the near future. Once again, I ask, politely, for everyone to please tip their glass to Brendan. He's good folk who deserves a helping hand and a round of applause every once in a while.
***1*** Which I confess to know absolutely nothing about. Ask my last girlfriend. I'm fairly certain she hates me right now, and I'm sure that I've probably given her some reason to. This species baffles me.
I love Kankakee
Though I "technically" don't live within the city limits of Kankakee (my municipality is a half mile or two away), it is still the place to go to find people, to make long lost contacts, and to be yourself. I spent a good portion of the evening discussing women with a former co-worker from a newspaper I worked at in high school. It was a unique job that they only hired one high school student every two years and luckily, they chose me. Brendan was the head of the sports section, and was seriously an all-around, stand up type of guy. He, literally, is good people, and for that, the man has earned my respect. Though he's ten years my senior, this is the first year in the past six that he has spent Christmas Night without a significant other. We met at a local bar and began rumaging through antecdotes and insights into the psyche of the opposite sex ***1***.
Brendan did 90% of the talking. I pretty much sat and listened, because after twenty minutes, I could tell that one of the main things the guy needed was a solid ear to hold for a few minutes. I've got his back. I've got your back, too. He talked about his ex, and how he should've just gotten over the marriage hump, and he was speaking with depth, and with compassion, and he seemed remorseful, and I think that the best present I've given anyone all year long was my ear to Brendan tonight. I nodded, and I listened intently, and I felt the guy's pain. I did. And it made me feel tired inside to hear about how he goes to bars in Kankakee alone to try and meet women, but at the same time it made me happy because he's doing something that I can never seem to do.
By the end of the night, lo and behold, he's standing at the bar alone, after I had gone to the pisser, talking quietly to a young men named, oddly enough, Brendan. I'm fairly certain he got her number, and, if I know the guy at all, I'm fairly certain he'll call her sometime in the near future. Once again, I ask, politely, for everyone to please tip their glass to Brendan. He's good folk who deserves a helping hand and a round of applause every once in a while.
***1*** Which I confess to know absolutely nothing about. Ask my last girlfriend. I'm fairly certain she hates me right now, and I'm sure that I've probably given her some reason to. This species baffles me.
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