What I won't do over the coming days and weeks involves refraining from any attempt to prove what I great guy I am to this young woman in light of the fact that she did not reciprocate my invitation to my comic show by actually showing up.  I DO NOT have any plans to try a prove what I great guy I am in light of this seeming rejection of my invitation.  I think that kind of thing is SOOO manipulative towards someone such as her.  

Also, I will not try to give her my Richy Vegas comics or copies of any of my CD's of my music, and I will not try to invite her to any more events I may have in the coming days.  I do not want to punish her for being so nice in fielding my invitation to that comics show I was a part of yesterday (Saturday, 10/30/21).  I consider all matters between myself and her closed and settled, and I will never forget her for being so kind to me when I invited her to that comics show last week.

Also, I really made an exception in regards to inviting her to my comics show in the first place.  I have absolutely ZERO desire to try to invite any nineteen year old baristas or waitresses to anything I'm having in the foreseeable future.  The moratorium on that kind of thing went back into effect, as of last week, right after I approached that one young woman whom I have so desired to approach for the last three years or so.

Last week I approached that young woman i can go on and on about, that young woman who works at that one business I patronize, last week I approached her for social reasons for the first time.  This effort came after almost three years of having an interest in her for that sort of thing.  I did it, like I often said, in front of God and everyone as she busily worked her job.  For her part, she was very, very nice about it.  I'm trying to relate my version of what happened, because many might find my last post unfair.

My effort to reach out to her revealed my humanity to her, I think, and, if my past experiences indicate anything to me, the moment when I recoiled at the thought of how things really were on their end, and their likely attitudes towards me, a moment expressed in my last post of the prior evening, that expression of my revulsion strikes women such as her as a betrayal of them.  After all, they recognized my humanity in that moment I reached out to them, but I failed to acknowledge that recognition of my humanity on their part when I would so fearfully demonstrate a recoiling at what had gone on prior to that moment.  So the way they see it, typically, is that they recognize me, but I don't recognize them, when all is said and done.  I'm trying to do better.

Yep, the title of this post just about sums it up.  If any part of this Richy Vegas myth making I engage in has a grain or two of truth to it, that's been the case for about fifty years now, too.  If any of these same cowards want to try me again, I'd just as soon they do.  To the extent that I used to act out on negative forces that would visit me from time to time, I know enough now to let them come to me so that I may, once again, hand them their asses in a righteous way.  Amen to that.

Last Spring I imposed a restriction on the mentioning of certain parties in an effort to let things shake out in the real world and do nothing online that would undermine that process.  To the best of my knowledge, things have shaken out, and I no longer live under any restrictions whatsoever about the people I discreetly mention on this blog.  Maybe I should hold my tongue a little while longer.  

​Well, I say to that this one point or two: I've stepped up in regards to who I really am over, and over, and over again in the current configuration of the game laid before me, and it's now on the parties I feel I can safely label as the antagonists to step up and prove they are anything other than that which I have just now called them.  In other words, it's not on me to prove they are not the bad guys in this little game of their choosing, this game that they play by their own set of rules, this game where they get to decide what constitutes a win for them, it's on them to prove they are not the bad guys.  I can hear the chirping of the crickets now.

I dropped by my tracks for Cris to mix and master today.  He said he thinks he can work with what I gave him, and that I should have my album mixed and mastered in a week or so.  One song, "Hockey Goon of Love," has the lyrics, "But if you want to shit on me/ 'cause word came from above/ I'll have my say about it/ I'm the hockey goon of love," and, "I'm called the enforcer/ I just do just what I can/ truth to tell, most weekend nights/ I use the palm of my right hand."

There's this radio announcer on the local classical station who specializes in music from the Baroque era and earlier.  Several years ago she announced that she took a position in Europe to do a deep, scholarly study of a Baroque era composer she helped elevate and champion, and that she would leave Austin and the station, for good, very shortly.  A few months later, I tuned into the station, and she still had her position, but she had a new surname.  That's all I knew of that matter.

Yeah, if I had someone in my world who seemed to just want to relegate me to some diminished, demeaning role, but I suspected that I meant more to them than they let on, I'd throw down some ultimatum too, but only if I really cared for them.  If this person worked at a business I patronize, and I finally had an opportunity to invite them to some nice, daytime, low-commitment event that I was a part of, but I also wanted them to know that this was it, I'd give them fair warning before the opportunity came to invite them to this event.  I'm just thinking, "What if?," out loud here, understand?

The fair warning would consist of me stating that I'm totally willing to patronize another  business that offered the same services if things didn't come off, and I suspected that things didn't come off because they just want me to play some bullshit role in their life.  I'd totally give fair warning about that.  I'm not talking about marriage here, understand, just invite them somewhere where they'd only have to hang out for a little bit etc., and if they wanted to split soon after they arrived, okay.

Understand, I think I treat my love interests as well as I can possibly treat them.  I think an appropriately expressed ultimatum, given how I often manage to keep things viable for quite some time with no real acknowledgement from the other party that, no, things haven't totally gone to shit, thanks in large part to me; I think a courteously administered ultimatum would at least allow me to move on if the other party blows it off or otherwise flouts it in some way.  Yeah, I'd do that to settle things once and for all.

Oh, and one more thing.  Sometimes I'm out for a walk or at a coffee shop, and some attractive woman will say something, something that I can hear, like, "I love him too much." I hate to say it, but my grandiose way of thinking can find succor in such things, and I can take them out of context and apply them to my own situation somehow and....and.  Who do I complain to about this stuff?  The Universe? I can be swayed by that kind of stuff to give a frustrating love interest ONE MORE CHANCE.  I admit it.  Yep. Mental illness.  But, there will come a time when I just walk away, and attractive young women at coffee shops or on my walks can say whatever the hell they want, and it will make no difference.

Oh, and this person, let's say they work at a business I patronize. Let's just say that for the sake of argument.  If they call in sick to work during the week that I want to throw down this ultimatum, they'd better really be sick.  And, I'd want to know about it in a timely manner, AND they'd better be prepared to make amends for letting this opportunity blow by them, or I'm gone, gone, gone.  

Oh, and one more thing, if I were to find myself in such a situation one of these days, I constantly maintain and improve upon a very well-constructed Bullshit-O-Meter that can detect the first sign of total bullshit from such a party as the ones that so concern me so frequently.  If such a party wanted to try to get anything past this well-oiled Bullshit-O-Meter, THEY'D BETTER DO A DAMN GOOD JOB OF IT.

So let's talk about how a mister regards his mistress, typically.  One can check out The Apartment, starring Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine, and Fred MacMurray.  Pay attention to the part where Fred, playing the part of the mister, gives Shirley, the mistress, a hundred dollar bill to buy herself something nice for Christmas.  You see, he won't be spending Christmas with her, and he didn't have time to pick out anything for her himself, and well, she understands, doesn't she?

In my last post I pointed out an analogous dynamic between myself and quite a number of young women these past seven years, starting with that virgin girl at that one business I go on and on about.  At that same business where that virgin girl worked, a later incarnation of her shit looked at me with goo-goo eyes a couple of times as I went about my day there.  Naturally, I then looked her up on Facebook and saw pictures of her and her two kids and her fiancé.  Naturally, that ended the deal for me, but she acted so rudely towards me after that, as if she believed I made some deliberate effort to deprive her of the romantic attention she felt so entitled to having.

Have I ever really signed on for one of these deals at this business since the days of that virgin girl in 2014?  Define signed on.  I've certainly slowed things down to my speed quite a number of times.  I've certainly done the math over, and over, and over in my head in my efforts to slow things down to my speed.  As of this writing, thanks in large part to my willingness to slow things down to my speed,  I've always found the ability to pick my spots to gain some wriggle room and free myself, eventually.

A sure-fire sign of falling for these deals hook, line, and sinker comes in the form of a mental breakdown period to end the deal.  That never happened with that virgin girl, or that entitled young mother with the fiancé, or anyone else at this business who came after me  for that kind of thing to any extent, greater or lesser.  I remember that time in regards to that virgin girl as a real ordeal, but again, no breakdown.  I've experienced several more ordeals in relation to young Fred MacMurray types at that business, but no breakdowns over them, and I don't anticipate any kind of breakdown period for me in the foreseeable future, either.  Believe me, those breakdowns can have the characteristic of an epileptic seizure, where the afflicted can feel one coming on as that time approaches.

So, if I haven't experienced any breakdowns since the days of that virgin girl over these bad deals these women at this one business seem so intent on having me sign on for, what has happened instead?  Well, when that virgin girl first reared her head, during the Summer of 2014, I found myself in the process of working on issue number 8 of Richy Vegas Comics.  These days, I find I have fifty-two more pages of issue number 25 of my comic book to finish illustrating, and that will close the book on the fourteen part epic, "The Legend of Richy Vegas."  That's two prequel issues, plus the twelve issues of "The Legend..." proper. Fourteen issues total, eighty pages per issue, so that's eleven hundred and twenty pages of comics.  All written, illustrated, and edited by myself. Yesterday afternoon, I completed the tracking for my third solo music album, I Make Country Music Records, Sir.  That's my fifth solo album over all, and my third album since the days of that virgin girl.  In the days to come, I anticipate shooting more YouTube videos of a lot of those songs I've written, most of which I've written since 2014.  Sorry to disappoint you Fred, but no breakdown over you.  I'm not really sorry about that, either.

I've often thought about that virgin girl at that one business I patronize and what all she and her kind ever got out of the deals they would so ....aggressively(?)...express a desire to have me sign on for.  They all had boyfriends or whatever.  So it wasn't that.  I had the promise of functioning, I believe, as a weird, emotional equivalent of a mistress for them.  They could get all of this bullshit and drama out of me, they hoped, without ever having to commit to fulfilling my desires for anything more than what would amount to a bizarre flirtation for them.  E-agh! Yeah, the ones at this business who went after me to a greater rather than a lesser extent saw me as providing something they couldn't get from their boyfriends, fiances, whatever.  Good to know.  Anyone want to try to prove me wrong on that?  I didn't think so.

There's this really attractive young woman who works at one of these businesses I patronize whom I would like to get to know better.   The problem I have with that resides in the notion that if I ask her out in front of God and everyone at her place of employment, she would just see me as some silly-ass pushover of an old man.  She would likely just see me as succumbing to her charms in a premature and inappropriate manner, if past experiences teach me anything.  I think I've done very well these past several years in declaring a moratorium on the asking out of young, very attractive baristas, waitresses, and other young women I come into contact with on a regular basis.  I don't want to fuck with that at all at this point.  

I've come up with so many reasons for halting that kind of thing for the time being, and the more I refrain from asking such young women out, the more reasons I seem to come up with for such restraint. Face it, if I asked this young woman out in front of God and everyone at her place of employment, because she comes across to me as THAT SPECIAL, so much so that, well, in HER case, I HAVE to make an exception, that would just open the door for me making an exception in the cases of other young women in my world, especially after this particular young woman would (probably) shoot my ass down for all my efforts to be some good guy and take it upon myself to work out our "assuredly" mutual attraction.

I've often complained bitterly about the young women at this one business I patronize frequently-that business where that virgin girl used to work, yeah that one- about how I've counted nine young woman at this one business who just wanted to fuck with me by testing my mettle.  Now, if I'd ever gotten the impression that any of these young women at this business had ever developed a genuine interest in me through this process of seeing what I'm made of, so to speak, that be another matter entirely, so much so that I would KIND OF be okay with it, to some extent.  But no, as of this writing I've never gotten the lasting impression that these young, very attractive women-women I've often cared for a great deal, I might add-I've never came away with the lasting impression from my interactions with any of these women of these past several years, that ANY of them EVER took a romantic interest in me at some point.  If one or two of them ever had, and it just never registered with me as that kind of thing, well, whose fault is that?  I've had SOME dating and sex experiences in my lifetime, enough to know when those options get seriously put on the table, but nope, not from any waitress, barista, or any other day-to-day employee type I'm even the slightest bit acquainted with to this point.

Oh geez, here I am bringing up SEX when I talk about waitresses, baristas, and other employee types I regularly see.  Maybe that kind of too-soon thought process has me barking up the wrong tree way more often than I or anyone else would care for.  Well, what's the cure for, perhaps, coming off as a pushover to the extent that I wind up barking up the wrong tree?  'DING, DING, DING' to anyone who suggests that I just see what happens when I let perceived dating opportunities slip through my fingers!  If someone wants to see what I'm made of just for shits and grins, I can up the ante to the point of just blowing them off for all of that bullshit they want to sling my way.  Yep, like Darrel Royal said, "We dance with them that brung us."  Uh, to make myself clear, by, "Them that brung us, " I mean the idea that I will stick with just letting perceived opportunities slip through my fingers, not that I will literally try to  dance with any flirty young thing that darkens my door.

I reiterate, as far as I know, I do NOT currently find myself in negotiations for a date, contact information, or any other type of deal that would involve me seeing ANYONE in my world I currently have an attraction towards in any kind of social setting.  And, I very, very strongly reiterate that this one particular business remains the MOST problematic, in that the gunfighter mentality of some of the young, vey attractive female employees who saunter in and out of employment there STILL seems to persist years after that virgin girl first threw down the gauntlet in front of me in 2014(!).  I'm working on this pushover issue hard enough to satisfy me, at least.   

Yep, barking up the wrong tree.  I told my cousin last night that so much of my efforts to improve my game these days involve learning whom NOT to approach for dating purposes.  My checkered history with women so much involves a tendency to make it all about the wrong person for all of that.  I think I've made changes.  If I extract the last seven years of my life these days and compare it to the last seven years before my hospitalization for mental illness, the difference in how frequently and intensely and for how long I would pursue the wrong person between those two periods of my life speaks volumes as to how much I have tried and succeeded in changing that aspect of my game around.  I can't say I've NEVER barked up the wrong tree these past seven years, but I can see a steep reduction in that sort of thing these last seven years over those years between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-eight.  In the recovery from an illness with no real cure, a steep reduction in the symptoms of that illness generally counts as the best progress one may achieve. 

I frequently look at men or machines reading Reddit posts about nice guys, neckbeards, incels, what have you, in YouTube videos.  It seems as if an overall obsession with women and a tendency to bark up the wrong tree informs the stories told in so many of these videos.  I remember the kind of obsessive things I would do in high school and college and wish to God I could change somehow.  I think just the state of existing in a bad place for a lot of these guys makes their efforts to connect with women about the wrong women by definition. A vicious cycle emerges where the behavior of these (mostly) young men can lead them to the wrong person's door before too long, if my personal experiences applies to their situations in any way.

I've talked often enough about how things I went through in the eighties and nineties seem to have come back to haunt me these days.  I think my mental illness, and what that signifies to various people hungry for some adversarial drama in their lives, makes  that kind of phenomenon a definite possibility.  The mentally ill have tended to get scapegoated for the sins of the many throughout history.  Couple this with the notion many antagonists posses that the mentally ill can't defend themselves against such attacks, and that the aggressors can get away clean with such attacks, and one can find all the explanation one needs for why this kind of behavior runs rampant in the situations someone such as me finds himself in to this day. 

What I wrote on my last post struck me as a possible breakthrough about women I have a strong attraction to.  I think I'm the type they worry will not leave them alone if they show even a smidgen of interest in me.  All these years I've learned how to pretty much rein that enthusiasm in, or at least I thought I learned how, but I may still give women I have a strong attraction to the impression that I'd just be all over them in a way they wouldn't like if they gave me half a chance.

Well, it's the first of the month.  I bought a five CD set of classic albums by the British band Traffic because I did not directly refer to that young woman I can go on, and on, and on, and on about for the past fifteen days as I wrote these blog posts.  She works at a business where- I sat up and counted one night- she works at a business where, since 2014, eight young woman have tried to make me look like an asshole, some to a lesser extent, some to a greater extent, by trying to get me to put myself out there in a romantic sense.  It's nine young women, if I count her, and yes, come to think of it, I WILL count her in that number.

Well, as far as I know, she still works there, and I want to check her out, a little....onnnne mooore tiiiiime.  Did I truly have a breakthrough in regards to her, or am I going to make myself look like an asshole in her eyes and the eyes of those around us?  Does she want to make me look like an asshole?  How can I tell if that's what she wants?  Oh yeah, all that experience with women who look about as good as her in my past.  Plus, all those times where I made THEM look like assholes instead.  Well, we will see.