Im almost 30 now…which means I’m at that age where it's a non stop wave of social peer pressure to settle down and have children. I see a constant stream of my friends succumbing unto this, which sadly distances me further and further from them. See in my opinion, I won’t hit the age where I feel the need to settle down and father some hellspawn for at least another 60 years. By that time hopefully I'll be in my prime...because i'll be dead. (Suck it Social Peer Pressure!) It's a strange feeling at times to be the only solo act in a sea of friends who only talk about, and want to be around marriage and babies. The further they fall into that abyss of courtship and parenthood…the less they start to have anything in common with me. So my list of great friends seems to be getting thinner and thinner every year. I still have a best friend who is always there when I need him though. In fact…ever since I was a little hellspawn myself I’ve always had a best friend.
Back when I was in kindergarten my family and I used to live in a trailer park just outside the city limits. I have some incredible memories of that place, but thats probably because (like with most people) its right around the time my most vivid memories started. Right across the street from me lived a little white kid named Gary. He and I were inseparable, and at any moment you could find us playing in the dirt with his ghostbusters toys, or looking for dinosaurs in the woods behind our trailers. (we never found any…at least not yet) By far the best thing that Gary and I would do was to constantly walk up and down the street drinking Sharps, given to us by his white trash mom. Do you know what Sharps is?
Now put yourself in 1990 and you’re strolling through a trailer park around dusk. Then you see two little 5 year olds roaming the streets drinking beers that you had no idea were non alcoholic. I mean who in their right min…actually…now that I typed that out that doesn’t really seem like its out of the realm of possibility for a trailer park. Hell, not even today. Hmm.
Gary was awesome, but sometime around the 2nd grade he moved on to Houston or something, and I moved on to even better friends. Being only 5 I don’t remember the exact moment that Gary and I became friends, but I can tell you EXACTLY when I met my newest and bestest friend!
It happened JUST like this! Well...not really...
I had been scouring the internet and any shelter in a hundred mile radius for over a month. I had this vision in my head that I just couldn’t get out, myself and a chocolate lab sitting on a mountain looking at a sunset. It was like someone did inception in my mind just to see me come as close as i'll probably ever become to being a dad.
YOU DID THIS!
It just HAD to be a chocolate labrador and he HAD to be like me. Some ugly little runt that nobody wanted…he was out there. It seems I’ve always had an obsession with ugly and broken things for as long as I can remember. Its probably because I see things like that as a reflection of myself or something, but either way those are the things that I relate to and cherish the most.
One friday night in early november I was on my phone looking through the internets, and thats when I found him. Someone in San Antonio had a few chocolate labs that they were selling for the insane sum of fifty dollars a dog. I got on my cellphone telephone and I called immediately…
“Hello, my name is Tony and I’m interested in buying one of your puppies.”
(And to my surprise…the most redneck voice ever replied back to me…)
“Yeas Iz be Ricky, and Iz got a few puupies fer sale.
Weze down here in Helotes Texas so if youz want to come on and get cha one. Its gonna cost you fifty dollars.”
“Hey man thats great! I can definitely come by. Are you available right now? It will probably take me an hour, but I can be there pretty quick.”
“wells aktually Im drivin on ova to my nephews birthday party, so I’m prolly not gunna be able to be around to get the dags for you”
“oh…well…ok….umm when would be the best time for me to come see the dogs?”
“Wellz I guess if you can come on down tomorraw we can get em fer ya.”
“Awesome! Ill be there first thing in the morning!”
“Wellz now if yur expectan me to hold this dag fer ya its gonna be an extra fitteen dollars”
“um…really? I was ready to come get him today but you’re the one who told me to come tomorrow”
“Wellz its supply and demand so I gotta charge ya fitteen dollars more”
Propa Fucked
Rather than argue with Rickys superior knowledge of advanced economics, I figured that 65 dollars was not too bad of a deal. So I agreed to it, and let ol Ricky be on his way to his nephews birthday party, whom I also assumed was probably his son.
As for me…it was off to bed to dream about Chocolate Labs and New Best Friends.
The next morning I’m driving on down to San Antonio with a major friendship hard on to pick up my new puppy pal. I call my new bud Ricky as soon as I get into the city limits to get directions to wherever someone like him lives.
“Hey Ricky…its Tony. Im in Helotes and I need to know where you would like me to pick up the dog.”
“Hey, wellz I had to drive on down to Boerne to pick up mah girlfriend from work at Dairy Queen, so I’m not gonna be around. But ills make sure someone will be there.”
From there Ricky instructed me down a shady winding road that paralleled a small creek. It was actually a nice drive, but all the beauty that is Helotes could not keep my mind off of what I knew I was waiting for me at my destination.
“sooo…how far down this road do I need to go?”
“wellz you almost there. You gonna keep drivin about a mile further until you see a really nice, big, house with a big truck and a BMW in front of it”
Holy shit…I’ve had Ricky all wrong this whole time! He’s not just some retarded redneck…he’s a RICH RETARDED REDNECK!”
But…like everything else in my life, all that is the reality of the real world came crashing in…
“Wellz as soon as ya see that house, theres a dirt road with some old cars in a field. THATS the road that leads on down to mah trailer”
Well Fuck.
I got off the phone turned down this old dirt road. It was about 200 yards before a came upon an old dilapidated trailer hidden in the middle of the woods. Im pretty sure this is where the inspiration for Texas Chainsaw Massacre was created. In the middle of some old cedar trees there was a small play fort made out of old broken pallets. Nailed on it was a wooden sign with the words “Rickys Hideout” spray painted in red.
“FUCK THIS! Im about to die because I don’t know how to squeal like a pig!”
I decided to turn around and get the hell out of there. Sure I wanted a little puppy…but how am I supposed to enjoy one when some redneck cross dresser is wearing my face?
Yea...ummm...no.
Just as I was turning around a giant beast of a woman came from behind the ruins of the trailer/meth lab. She was wearing a Tank Top that was at least 2 sizes too small for her, and her stomach stuck out like Kuato on Total Recall.
"Quuuaaaiiidddddd"
With a cigarette between two fingers on one hand, and a cordless house phone in the other, I could hear her talking to whom I assumed was Ricky.
“Yeaz…I sees him. WELLZ WHAT DO YA WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT? OK FINE!”
As she angrily hung up on Ricky, and I went ahead and reached for my knife. Luckily as a Mexican I’ve always got one on me. (Stereotypes are the best sometimes!) I'm now ready to fight off hundreds of Rapey Meth Heads that are sure to be hiding in the woods.
She took one REALLY long hit from her Cigarette and stared me down.
"This is it Tony…this is what watching all those fighting movies have prepared you for. A fight to the death with inbred meth heads. An honorable way to die."
“So iz guess youz here for tha Puupies?”
For a second I’m in disbelief. There actually ARE puppies here! Unless “Puppies” is some code word for Meth that is…
“ummm…yea. Are they around?”
Without saying a word she waddled with her back to me, and with her two cigarette occupied fingers gave me a motion that was signifying to follow her.
I folded my knife, put it in my sleeve, and reluctantly followed her to the back of the trailer. She didn’t say a word until we reached the back. Then she yelled with all her redneck might!
“DIXIE! DIXIE! DIXIE WHERE THE HELL ARE YA? GET YER OLD ASS OUT HERE!”
A little rumble from under the trailer and a beautiful adult chocolate lab emerged with two little ones in tow. They weren’t more than 3 weeks old…but they were the most beautiful things I had ever seen.
They both immediately flopped towards me while their mother looked on. And there he was…Seymour! A dirty little runt that was covered in dirt and fleas. He was everything I was as a child except without the Sharps and in cute dog form.
I paid off that whale of a woman and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. The only regret I have was that I didn’t have enough money to rescue Dixie and her other pup from that flea infested Shit Hole that was "Rickys Hideout".
Fuck those people.
On the way home Seymour didn't move an inch. I kept nudging him but he wouldn’t do anything.
“Great…I’ve had a dog for a total of 20 min and he’s already dead.”
I got him home and immediately ran a sink bath for him. He showed little signs of life, and It would be no time at all before I found out why. He seemed to have a few fleas sucking what little life he did have right out of him. I say a few…but thats only because I lost count after around a hundred. (that number isn’t exaggerated in the slightest)
After he was rid of the hundreds of parasites he finally opened his eyes to me and started licking me. This right here…This is that love thing.
Seymour is almost 5 now, and he is still by far one of the best decisions I've ever made. In one randomly eventful day I gained a new best friend...and as cliche as it sounds in one randomly eventful day I probably changed my life forever.
Some people may tell you that great friends are hard to find. From my experiences…they just didn’t look around in the right trailers.
And they lived happily ever after to sit on mountains and stare at sunsets...
