No luck, and some more history

Virtual Jobs, requires a valid (and working) social security #, which I no longer have. Offering a service to put computers together as long as parts are provided...was an idea, however that would only work at a local level which means I would have to build a reputation...that takes time, which I don't have.

I'm selling some old computer parts on ebay, "AS-IS" cause it may, or may not work. People buy crap on ebay, why not my crap?

I haven't continued my story since July, so I guess it's about time.

Let's see, where was I?

I had learned how to speak and write english, around that time my cousins convinced their mother to ask my grandma (her sister) for more money since I was living with them...in other words, they wanted to raise the "rent". Grandma was no fool, she saw we needed to get out of there, and we did.

We ended up moving to Elm Ave. (not to be confused with Elm Street from the famous horror movie). It was between 18th and 17th street and parallel to Ave. M.

It was a small building, we lived in the second floor. It was a nice place, if you didn't look through the windows in the back of the apartment, the view was of another street and the back of the building which was not very clean...to say the least.

My room was small, but it was mine, much better than the floor I had slept on for months. I had my own small bed, with a cheap metal frame with springs that you can fold and put into the closet which people usualy buy for guests?...that was my bed and I was very happy with it.

It had the basics, bed, table, small TV, a peruvian rug...yeah, I guess I will have to explain that. In Peru you can buy a rug which is hand made from either Llama/Alpaca fleece. The end product is pretty much art, it's done in a nice pattern with white and different tones of brown or black. They are usually made in an oval form in different sizes to be used at the bed or in the livingroom.

I think it was then when I bought my nintendo, and have been gaming every since. I'm fairly certain I had over 60 cartriges, heh.

Grandma was working at a tie factory in Manhattan (a place I would despise later on, because working there caused the decline of her health years later). I honestly don't remember exacty what the hell I was doing at the time, I do recall being a diswasher at a few places, and attempting to work in small basement factories...failing miserable at that.

Basement factories are pretty much where most illegals go, specially if they don't speak a word of english. It just wasn't for me, everyone would speak in spanish and I had just not spoken to anyone else besides my grandma in spanish...I felt out of place.

I got lucky and ended up working with the upstairs neighbor (he laid down carpet), forgot his name, but his wife and kids loved my grandma because even though she only spoke a few words of english...Chila cared for people.

Did I mention I got a crappy long term memory? yeah.

Now Chila wasn't grandma's real name, it was Ercilia...but when I was a child I could only say "Chila!" and...that is how her nickname stuck with her for the rest of her life.

Man, I miss her so damn much, she always had my back even when I would do stupid things.

Let me tell you that putting down carpet seems easy, it's not if you do it correctly. You got to measure the room, put down the wodden strips with the small nails and put them exactly in place near the walls and then lay down the carpet, cut it and...here comes the hard part...kick it.

Well not really kick it, but there is a device which "grabs" the carpet and you need to hit it with your knee at full speed to "stretch" the carpet in place so that there are no wrinkles and such. Oh yeah, also you need to put down the cushion under the carpet (except when it's for an office, that type of carpet don't need it).

His knees were in bad shape, and I really didn't want to end up in the same shape so I would not kick hard enough on purpose so eventually he wouldn't let me even use the "kicker" as he called it. Hell the carpet alone was heavy enough and sometimes it needed to be carried up on the shoulders up when the place had no elevator (of which there is pleny in brooklyn). I did my job as helper, I got paid minimum wage, that was that. Could I have learned the trade? yeah...but for what purpose?

I saw what it took to do the job, you have to lay down cash to buy the carpet and you don't get paid until after the customer paid the bill. You got to pay your helper every week, you got to buy everything off you pocket and you got to have a van big enough to transport everything. Plus...having to go home and put ice bags on my knees wasn't something I wanted to do in my life.

My boss was ok, we were sort of friends, but the guy was not someone I would befriend under normal circunstances. He was a jealous man. His wife was nice looking, in her mid 30's, but she was a straight arrow. If you were an asshole, she would tell you right away, one of the things I liked about her.

At the time my friends, were from the local high school. I met one at a local comic book store (yes I collected comic books before that was widely accepted as it is now) and he introduced me to others. I had a couple of friends who lived in the neighborhood, but well...they were not the good kind to be honest.

Either they were immature (like I was) or were using me in some way. 2 years laying down carpet, after that it pretty much ended because his wife pretty much kicked him out and well...he didn't need me anymore. That is what I was told, and I accepted it.

Didn't take me long to find another job. I became a helper again, to a tall, blond and crazy ass white guy making letter/package deliveries in Manhattan. More on that on another post (cause if I tell you now what we did, you would not believe it).

I guess it was then when I just started with the beer, the parties and being very promiscuous. If I told you I had sex with hundreds of females you probably would not believe me, so let's try to do the math.

Grandma would go out usually Friday and stay with her sister until Sunday night...that was my cue.

My guy friends in high school, didn't have a problem getting other guys to come, as long as they came with beer (kegs anyone?). Girls would come, cause there was free beer, some dude would always bring weed, so all the 3 basics of a good party was there (well at the time that is what I thought).

So I would turn off the lights, and just have candles on around the house (it's a miracle the apartment didn't go up in flames) and with the stereo going, there was a party every Friday and Saturday night. This went on for about...3 years.

52 weeks times 2 parties per week, 104 parties times the 3 years = 312 parties. I would hook up with at least 2 girls at each party. 624 females, now keep in mind that sometimes I would hook up with more than 2, then also during the week I may sneak one into the house once in a while.

Oh and I was a bit picky, I would not have sex with a female friend and I would not screw a girl more than a few times...I always wanted a new girl to explore.

Now because of the parties, people in the neighborhood thought very little of me, to them I was pretty much a scumbag. They didn't like teens to get drunk...well shit, how was that my fault? I didn't force anyone to come into my house, neither did I force them to stay or have sex with me...well maybe some got drunk, but so did I!

Now thinking back, I do regret doing it, well...the sex was good for the most part, but I shouldn't have been so careless about it.

Then it took very little to get a girl to get naked, let this be a warning to all female teens...don't be stupid...cause most young guys will take advantage and don't give a shit as long as you consent.

I got a good sex education, but I went through women like toilet paper and I didn't mature, I didn't really learn how to talk or relate to females. All I learned was how to charm my way into a girl's pants in record time, have a good time, and then get rid of her. I was too stupid to care.

I feel guilty for the shit I did then. A friend told me a few months ago that as long as I regret my actions, it means that I learned from it. I'm not so sure, sometimes I wonder if in my stupidity I hurt girls who really had love for me.

Once I became a boyfriend to a 16yr old, even went to her house, she gave me her virginity and then we broke up...just didn't work out. Guess what happened? her mother starts talking to me (she had approved of our relationship), and I end up being her lover. Yeah, right out of Jerry Springer, except I wouldn't have been stupid enough to drag my ass on public TV for everyone to boo at me.

So for a few months she was my sugar momma (the parties didn't stop of course). The room next to her daughter's (where I poped her cherry) was hers, and I think that woman was addicted to sex 'cause more than once she would have me call off work to go to her house and do her...and of course she would make up for the lost wages, sometimes in cash.

Her daughter went from having loving puppy eyes for me, to having eyes of hatred. I didn't care, like I said before...I was too stupid to care.

This is just one thing in my long list of "things I shouldn't have done". I also slept with 2 sisters (separately) but I won't go into details, cause they were russian and things got way too god damn complicated to even repeat it.

That's all for now, this post is too long as it is.