I've talked about how I've decided to refrain from patronizing a certain business while a particular young woman may work there. I see no reason to discontinue this practice. I feel good about my decision overall. One reason I made this decision has to do with the idea some other employees may have had that this young woman needed protecting from me. Well, they're doing a bang-up job of protecting her, because I haven't seen her in three weeks now.
One of my songs, "My Girlfriend Is a Hatesong," talks about this waitress at this restaurant I've been going to more often lately, again. This waitress seems to not work there, which accounts for one big reason I'm going there more often. I wrote a song titled "My Girlfriend Is a Hatesong" about her because I used my mighty psychic abilities to guess that she tried to rope me into some cruel sexual/ romantic love rejection game she had going on. One may listen to "My Girlfriend Is a Hatesong" on my Bandcamp page, which one may access on the Music tab on my site. "My Girlfriend Is a Hatesong" resides as the sixth or so track of my 2018 masterpiece, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
I don't really know if she tried to rope me into some cruel sexual/ romantic love rejection game, but I didn't use her name in the song or anything that would identify her to an uninformed third party, so that just means my muse is a rather bitter/ paranoid little thing that makes sure the targets of her wrath don't get unduly hurt, I guess.
But, I would only patronize this business because I wanted to eat there. I never bothered this woman, I don't think, I tipped her well, and I just went on my way. Why rope me in as the loser in some vicious, capitalistic sex game where someone MUST play the role of the loser to whomever she deemed the winner? And yeah, this waitress might identify herself as just the lefty type who would rail against the excesses of capitalism, save for this one aspect of it which she really gets off on. One of the main lessons I've learned in following my buddha resides in the way a LOT of people NEED for me to play the role of loser in their tragicomic little shit plays. I've found this NEED that I'm somehow supposed to meet to exist because following my buddha allows me to shut down my end of it and just observe the world around me.
I've written about the particulars of this waitress' game before, but I'll try to summarize briefly. This waitress started acting rudely towards me for no reason on the occasions when I would dine there. I wrote that great song I mentioned at the top of this post, and decided to not go in there for a while. When I first wrote it I thought, "If I post this on my blog and she reads it, I bet she'd get a real kick out of it," but then I thought better of posting it right then.
I came back to this restaurant after about a month. She mentioned that she hadn't seen me in a while. Throughout my meal I overheard her talk to this really handsome, newer waiter in the wait station. She mentioned twice that she'd moved to Austin when she was twelve, plus other autobiographical information. As I left, a waiter I liked said, "Have a good one," in a wary tone.
My incredible psychic abilities ascertained that this waitress and this handsome waiter were already boyfriend and girlfriend by the time she volunteered this stuff about herself to him. My incredible psychic abilities ascertained that her end of the conversation amounted to some charade for the benefit of others, maybe even me. Anyhoo, given that this stuff just resided in my head, I decided to just stop going to this place when she worked there and, a month or so after that decision, I posted the dis song of all dis songs, "My Girlfriend Is a Hatesong," available for one's FREE listening pleasure through the link on my Music page to my Bandcamp site. On the great album, Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band (it's the eighth track on the album).
As I've said before, I wonder how people like her boyfriend like the idea of being used to play these kinds of games? Sometimes the sex partner relishes it greatly until they lose, I guess. But, I imagine at least some of these people don't like the idea of being, ahem, USED as a means for this kind of person's end. Oh well, I just like to think out loud on these things.
I posted two weeks ago that I would stop patronizing one particular business when I thought that one particular female employee may work there. I said at the time that actions speak louder than words, and so it goes, I haven't seen this particular young woman since, because I really did refrain form patronizing this place during her known hours. I plan on keeping it up. I have done a lot of daily activities since my decision, and I feel comfortable in general. I can sit in a bar or a nightclub at a table for long periods of time and just chill. I haven't been able to do that kind of thing in as long as I can remember.
The situation I found myself in regarding this young woman just creeped me out somehow. I tended to project a lot of paranoid thoughts onto her to the point where I just wanted to bail, and bail I did. The bottom line came to the fact that she didn't seem to want to interact with me at all, and since getting closer to her socially did not present itself as a viable option, and since I did not want things to stay the same, I opted to change things up substantially. I don't know if any of my paranoid thoughts had any basis in reality, but I feel really good about the idea that I can just bail on one of these situations anytime I want to and not have to worry about forsaking the love of my life.
If I encounter any other waitresses or baristas or whatever in my world that just want to get up in my business and see what I'm made of, I will try to keep the following in mind. Although I greatly admire the abundance of youth and beauty they typically possess, I'm looking for someone more approachable for social things such as dates. So, I would like to approach women who possess some of the qualities of youth and beauty these women have, but I want to approach women who might actually go out with me or hang out with me or what have you.
I compiled quite an oh-fer, starting in 2009 and going up to 2013, as far as striking out with the waitresses and baristas in my world. Since 2013, I've approached three of these types of women through a more discreet Facebook friend request. Two of those three at least accepted my friend request. The last one I approached via this method decided to take offense, I guess, so that's it for the Facebook friend requests. I'm not on Facebook anymore anyway.
The only other woman of this type I approached since 2013 first invited me to hang out with her at her favorite bar. I told her I didn't drink, which I guess was the deal killer for her. That's pretty good, though. Three Facebook friend requests and one woman who wasn't just a total asshole about the whole deal since 2013. I don't really feel the need to put myself out there for anyone of these types in my world at this time. Nope. It seems as if for every young woman I "process," i.e. decide to let go of somehow, another just sprouts up from somewhere and takes her place. That may result from the whole "nature abhors a vacuum" phenomenon. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? I don't really know, and it really doesn't matter.
I've been working on my youtube channel. It looks like I'm going to keep a pretty low profile on that, judging by the lack of traffic on the video I uploaded the other day. I hope to shoot new videos after I rehearse a bunch of songs for the next two weeks. I have all the equipment I need, and I'm familiar enough with the software that I can work that end too. The sound is pretty good on the new video, considering that it's live and I'm using a twenty-two dollar condenser mic.
Um, about what happens in issue number eighteen, yeah. I'm wondering if people have actually gone down to the library and read that issue. It seems as if maybe some of the people who read this blog may have done just that. But, then again, is the data on views to this website real? Does the data reflect in any way that local people I interact with in my everyday world actually read these blog posts and would go to the trouble to go down to the main library and read the books there on the Zine Shelf? I wonder, because of the total lack of traffic on the YouTube channel.
Maybe it's the price I pay for being an underground phenom, people they just don't want me to really know. Kind of like how God put dinosaur fossils underground when he created the world six thousand years ago in order to fool the skeptics about the age of the Earth.
Soo, if anyone really has read issue number eighteen and thinks anything of that part where I talk to Michelle at the Cannibal Club, there are some things to keep in mind. Mainly, that medical science says those kind of "recovered memories" are actually hallucinations. With that in mind, I feel kind of bad exploiting what happened to "Michelle," even though it happened thirty years ago. Like I said, I seem to keep a pretty low profile and seem doomed to obscurity with my art and music, and that may prove to be the only saving grace for me just coming out with all of this stuff-that not that many people will read it.
I want people to say, "I can at least see why he would have the beliefs he has about these experiences." I do personally believe that there is something to these experiences I've had. I've just decided to take a personal leap of faith about all of this stuff, but I just want people to read the books and maybe to sell some at a competitive price. Yeah, it would be nice to have an audience, over anything more heavy than that.
In issue number four of Richy Vegas Comics, "Anita, You're the Reason I'm Not In Prison," the shit goes down as follows: At the beginning of the book I talk about how I worked at a restaurant where I felt loved and accepted by my coworkers, a lot of whom were women. One page shows me getting a cake and the happy birthday song as a surprise. I talk about how women took an interest in me for the first time in many years.
A little further into the book, I go into how I confess an obsession with a young woman who, though she no longer worked there at the time, roomed with the female manager whom I confessed my obsession to, and she still worked an occasional shift and still frequented the place as a visiting friend and customer. Some months earlier, this same woman had hinted to me in a cruel manner that she did not want to date me.
So, after I confessed my obsession for this woman to the manager, I asked this same woman out. She didn't want to go out with me, but I was nice to her about it and all that. I thought that being nice might still give me a chance, but some weeks after I asked this woman out, and I thought things were going good with her, she acted kind of cold to me on the phone.
A few days later, the restaurant had its last two nights of business due to TABC issues. As my dishwashing shift began, I still fantasized about things going my way with this woman, but I also processed some rather ugly interactions with the female manager, this woman's roommate, who seemed to think she was really clever in dropping hints that this woman had taken up with some guy.
Later in my shift, Anita, someone I knew from high school and college, stepped up to greet me as I picked up a bus-tub from the outside deck. We exchanged phone numbers, and I went about my business.
A little later, some guy who knew the owners, and whom I saw talking a little to "Julie" on some previous night, stood at the bar. He asked me what was so special about the hummus. I explained to him the reason for the name, and went on my way.
Some time after that, Julie, the object of my desire, sat at the bar. The guy who asked me the question about the hummus sat a few chairs down at the other end of the short bar. Just as I was about to greet Julie warmly, Anita walks up to the bar. She said, "It was good to see you, Richard. You have my number and I have your number, call me soon. Okay?" I kind of relished the moment, smiled widely, and said, "Yeah, I will," and then Anita left.
I then turned to Julie and said, "Hi, Julie," as if I really liked her, because I did. She kind of gulped her red wine, exhaled and said, "Hi," as if she had to catch her breath. The guy who sat a few chairs over went over to Julie and started talking to her. They then sat together at a a table and talked.
Sometime later Julie said goodbye to everyone and left with this guy. I then realized that Julie had tried to set me up for a fall, but that Anita had thwarted her move. I, in the next logical thought, concluded that Anita was a special agent sent by the League to help me out of this jam.
The next night, the last night of business, was even busier than the previous night. At the beginning of the night, Julie sat at the bar and tried to play it off as if she'd won. She spent the entire night trying to throw this guy up in my face, so to speak, as they sat together with one of the guy's frat boy lookin' friends. Towards the end of the evening, the frat boy friend insulted Julie, and emotionally exhausted as I was, I let the guy know in nonverbal terms that I'd like nothing more than to just beat his ass.
I think Julie's new righteous boyfriend dumped her a few days later. The kind of game Julie tried to play with me was a pretty familiar one to me by the time this iteration of if went down in June, 1999, but it seems to be one that attractive young women never seem to tire of playing with me to this day. They lose pretty bad these days too.
I wonder how these guys these women try to throw up in my face feel about being used in such a manner? I get the impression that a fair number of these guys don't like this shit at all. Julie's boyfriend was one who willingly played at the outset, but some of them seem to get a rude awakening when they find out what's going on in the middle of one of these scenarios.
Anyway, I get a lot of bro love from some of these guys, if not all of them. I often get a lot of bro love from these types of guys, no matter how I know them. The Incels, that internet community of inexperienced, angry, frustrated men, has taken to calling these guys "Chads," and declared them their enemy. But, I guess I came up before any of that nonsense came around, and I don't know if I ever went as dark in my anger towards individual women or women in general as the Incels regularly display online or in violent acts in the real world.
Write something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview.