Notes from my Black
If you have ever been to a privately owned restaurant that was founded in say the 70-90’s, it was common for them to put a framed bill, like a $5 on the wall near the register. This was suppose to pay daily homage to the first person who spent money in their restaurant. This act steered the “ship” to stay on course and have a prosperous future.
In keeping with this, here is my homage to a little North Carolina business. They bought 13 of my books. This is the first business transaction my book has witnessed. I have had promises to buy from friend and family and “friends”, but this is a concrete deal. This store will be getting pre-release copies to sell.
You may ask why 13. Indeed. For me, growing up, 13 was my lucky number. It followed me through every sport I played. I was number 13. It saw me through many season of undefeated soccer and baseball. It paved my way to the pre-Olympic trials in another sport. I obviously didn’t make the Olympics… I stopped as a freshman in college. Another few years and maybe… maaaaybe… doubtful, I know a few people in my sport of choice that did make the Olympics and did well. I was not at their level yet. Anyway, 13 is lucky for me. I brought one book to the store and she bought it and asked for 12 more-13.
It’s not a huge sale, but her enthusiasm and kindness felt really really good. I dope to sell a lot more that is not wholesale (1/2 price). This experience and short-ish vacation has been good for me.
Today I fly back into real life. I have just got to figure out my personal life. I’m shaking my head… I cried again over a love loss that is trying to return. I really did think we were never going to talk again. I actually, finally gave up. Damn. I am such a damn fool in so many ways. My private relationship life is such garbage. I try to mend it and the universe just keeps fucking with me. My wife and kids don’t deserve this. I mean really, they just don’t. Maybe it’s time for me to start delving into what positives in life I deserve. I am just not wired this way. Deserving happiness… that’s a messed up concept for me. I’m not sure I’ve actually been happy since maybe high school. Maybe I was in short bursts along the way in college. There were bright spots to be certain.
Anyway, this was supposed to only be about my dollar placard. It’s early and I’m not really awake or willing to filter or proof anything this morning.