Rob-Rivera.com

Benches and the Power to Perceive

So I was downstairs of my office building waiting for my friend to get her lunch order at the restaurant/convenience store next door. I was sitting on a bench right outside said restaurant, one that overlooked the parking spaces in front of it, the intersection and some random buildings here and there making the landscape much more alive. People came and went as I ate my Fritos, and while I realized that I didn’t want to eat anything else for the rest of the day I began to pick up on little things that most people wouldn’t. You see, if there’s one thing that I could boast about it’s my ability to read people. I’ve tweaked this skill ever since I was 13 when I’d pick up my backpack and wander around the city, often stopping at malls and sitting on benches very much like the one I sat today and just watched people. How they acted, what they wore and what it’d all say about them as individuals. At first I learned how to read individuals but, like everything, you quickly feel like it’s easy so I upgraded to reading couples. Then groups of people. What are they wearing? what are they eating? Are they bitter? are they happy? Are they hiding something? A tone of voice, a laugh, a smile, a wink, anything I could pick I would and out of that I’d read people, finding out who they really are. It’s happened to me a lot that out of having this skill I’ve scared people off because, let’s face it… if there’s something that people don’t like is to be figured out. Specially when it seems easy for them to do so.

So, I was sitting there and I saw this group of people, government workers. There were 4 or 5, but the only one that’s important here was an older lady that followed the group. Out of this crowd, the only one that didn’t seem to belong was the old lady… her face told me that she knew she didn’t belong but still she trailed on because if not she was going to be alone. Her face told me she was screwed, but that she was content with being “part” of said group. It seems they’ve been together for a long time; specially her, knowing how government jobs shift once a new president takes office. She looked like she knew she would outlive them all and that kept her going. Let them take her for granted, because she’ll get the last laugh in the end.

When I first got Internet at home (a crappy 56k modem connection, which back then was like having a pot of gold) and was getting familiar with such over-ruling concepts as instant messaging and email I lurked chat rooms. The first chat room I encountered was the one Marco went in with at the time, which was at Love.com. AOL has since bought the URL apparently but back then it was a particularly simple chat room where I had my first experience at interacting with people from other countries and, ironically, my first crack at internet love. Now, stick with me because just with remembering I’m feeling embarassed, ridiculous, and wishing a sweet release of death… my handle was SuperSaiyan, and if you don’t know what that is at this point in the game then I will punch you in the face. Marco, as much as I love the guy, has the attention span of a child on ADD so he quickly moved on to greener pastures while I sticked around and met quite a bunch of great people, all of whom I don’t talk to anymore for reasons that have apparently been wiped out of my memory; usually when that happens I’ve come to realize that it’s my brain shutting out memories and the only reason why that would happen is because whatever caused us to cut all ties was entirely my fault. At this point in time, even if a little late I’d like to say I’m sorry.

There was something about talking to people via a computer screen that made it that much more impersonal and therefore made it easy for people to drop their inhibitions and get to know each other better. I had 2 great loves that most of the time were expressed through the Internet: One girl who’s handle was LaDeeDa (funny too, because my favorite BeeGees song has that chant in its chorus) and another one who when I first met her, her handle was “Flor de Lotto.” Ironically, Marco would date them both after me. Back in the day I’d get inexplicably mad about it but now I don’t have the right to do so, considering some of the stuff I’ve managed to Forrest Gump my way into… my mom has always said that me and my friends “don’t really like making an effort and branch out when it comes to women, don’t you?”

Anyway, they were both inherently important in my perception of women and how I’d always hurt people who truly, willfuly want the best for me. In fact, I carry “Flor de Lotto’s” ring she gave me the last time she came down to visit still, to this day; it reminds me that real love exists, and other sappy shit like that. My point with this whole rant is that if there’s one thing I need to grant the Internet is that it brings people together in a way that the old-fashioned (read: face-to-face) way will never be able to do, and some people use that as their cornerstone for protection against interpersonal harm. The ring, to me, represents how there was a time where things were simple and how I had to fuck that up for myself as well.

You see how complicated things get when you have a bunch of little “simples” that make it this huge complex thing? Ahh, that’s where I’m getting at.  You see, I just got my ass handed to me over a chat window just now in the most impersonal way possible and the words managed to pierce my steel wall, shield, mythril, armor, adamantium skeleton and hit my creamy caramel weak point for maximum damage. Amazing. I don’t think I’ve felt like this in years. Specially since everything I was told is true. My fear seems to be stronger than I had anticipated… must correct that. Suddenly, the sweet old lady trailing behind the group is me, and I just got figured out by someone studying me from a bench across the street; it’s the most uncomfortable feeling I’ve ever experienced. I’m used to having a way with words… suddenly all of it amounts to a great, big, fat nothing compared to a messenger-powered punch in the gut.

If there’s as good a time as any, I think it’s now. Please excuse me… I’m going to write an e-mail.

Check Out These Related Posts!

The Legend of Porto Diao:
I’ve heard many stories of Porto Diao. No one really knows where he comes from, as he never spoke much during the time I met him; someone in our camp asked him where he was born one night when we were grilling some burgers and potatoes. I wasn’t there when...

Rob and the Goat on a Yacht (NSFW):
Well, that was fast. You have to be amazed by the power of the Internets! I mentioned this yesterday, on the post entitled Deftones, Blank Ads and Cell Phone Cameras. In said post, I was pondering on how this guy kept taking pictures of me with his camera phone, and...

The Power of the Vote:
The concept of voting for governments started out being all-powerful and integral to a healthy society. There's an inherent trust in the people, granted by themselves, to know what's best for them. It's very meta, and perfect since there really is no omnipotent sheep herder to tell us what to...

The Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer:
Since writing is cathartic, I’m going to sound off on the Fantastic Four movie sequel. I saw “Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer” the other night and now the mere thought of it makes me angry like you have no idea. I know I shouldn’t feel that way considering...