#A violent drunk until he stopped drinking and dealt with shame about not being The Right Kind of Man etc etc etc

[chicago-geniza]

Shoutout to my mother for taping HOW TO UNLOAD THE DISHWASHER instructions to the front of the dishwasher, it has taken many years but at long last she has gotten the general gist of my brain problems (she was married to my dad and shared a room with my aunt growing up, after all) and is being genuinely helpful in material and meaningful ways. Thenk u momther 4 my ADL assistance

[imkylotrash]

Release

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Request: Reader and JJ are dating and they go to a party at the boneyard one night and the reader has been struggling with problems at home so she just absolutely lets go and gets totally shit faced and gets around rafe and some more kooks and tries coke and jj obv finds out and just absolutely loses it bc that’s his baby and his baby put herself in danger and he knows that’s just not like her at all. Anonymous

Warnings: Substance abuse, swearing, self destructive actions. As always let me know if there’s more. 

A/N I’m sorry this is so late but I hope whoever requested it sees it and loves it! x 

“You almost ready, babe?” JJ walks through the door and even if he’s just wearing a tee and some shorts, you can’t help but enjoy the view. You’re getting ready for the party tonight but your heart isn’t in it. Yesterday you came home to find your father drunk once again. It wasn’t the first time but two months ago he told you that he was going to sober up. You’re not sure why you believed him this time because he’s been trying to get sober ever since your mom died. But this time just felt different so coming home to see him passed out on the couch with vomit down his front and a dozen beer bottles in front of him was just too much. 

“Yeah, just finishing touches,” you reply returning to the present. You have yet to tell JJ that your father slipped up. Even though you know that JJ is the one person that can understand and relate then something in you makes you feel too ashamed to say it out loud. 

“You look hot,” he whispers leaning down to place a kiss on the top of your head. You lean into his body behind you for just a moment before getting up. A voice whispers to stay at home with JJ but you crush it. Tonight isn’t about taking it easy. 

“Let’s go,” you say grabbing your purse. It doesn’t take long before you’re at the Boneyard with the rest and you’re already on your second beer. You’re sitting between JJ’s legs and resting your back against his chest. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers to keep it private from the rest of the group. 

“I’m fine,” you reply not even looking his way. JJ shifts a little behind you but refrains from pushing you further. Instead he kisses your shoulder as a way to let you know that he’s there. Normally, it would be enough to bring you out of your funk but tonight you’re going to need something more than JJ. 

“I’ll be right back,” you say getting up from your spot with JJ. When he gets up to follow you, you shake your head. He means well, but you just need to be alone. You walk around watching the party evolve as it gets closer and closer to sunrise. 

“Y/N! Long time, no see!” someone yells making you turn around.

“Hey Rafe,” you say forcing a smile. Back before you met JJ, he was your date to parties. Not because you had feelings for him, but because he dealt the good stuff. And tonight, you needed that. 

“Looking to score?” he says showing a little bag with white powder. He’s dangling it in front of you not caring who sees which is stupid. He should be more careful with who sees him dealing. 

“You know me too well,” you reply grabbing some cash from your purse but Rafe stops you. 

“It’s on the house. A welcome back gift,” he says putting his arm around you and pulling you close. The feeling of someone else other than JJ touching you like that makes you sick, but tonight you’re pushing all thoughts of JJ in the back of your mind. Tonight you’re going all in like the old days and you’re not going to stop until you find out why this shit is better than your own family. Why someone would prefer drinks and lines rather than being there for your own children. You know that this thinking isn’t logical and that you won’t find answers this way but the image of your father passed out yesterday is haunting you and you just need to know what he sees in this stuff. 

“So, where’s your boyfriend tonight?” Topper smirks. You’re sitting with Rafe, Topper and the rest of their group. Everyone including yourself is high or drunk or both. Rather than giving in to Toppers teasing you do another line feeling it really hit you. It’s like you’re completely numb, your limbs so heavy you can barely move. But it’s a nice kind of numb - one where you don’t have to deal with all the things that sober you will have to. 

“I wanna dance,” you state getting up. You want to lose this feeling of heaviness that’s consuming your mind and body. So you dance and when Rafe comes up next to you, the voice telling you to stop him is barely a whisper. And he grabs you by the hips - something that makes your stomach churn - but suddenly you’re pushed away from him harshly. 

“What is going on?” Even now in this state you can hear how fucking close JJ is to losing it. 

“We’re having fun,” you reply not even recognising your own voice. You’re slurring the words and there’s two of JJ. 

“What the hell did you give her?” You see JJ push Rafe into the sand and holding him down. 

“JJ,” you say stumbling a little. There’s a very nice high but when you come down, you come crashing. And the good stuff is wearing off meaning you’re crashing fast. 

“Get off me, dude! I can’t help your junkie girlfriend did a line too much!” It’s the wrong thing to say. Even in your state right now you know that it’s the wrong thing to say. You don’t see JJ raise his fist, but you hear the impact when it hits Rafe’s face. Then you hear it again and again until John B pulls him off. 

“Stop it, JJ. Stop!” The last thing you hear is JJ calling your name before you pass out. When you wake up next, you’re sitting in a tub being drenched by cold water. 

“Stop!” you scream trying to shield your face from the cold water but it keeps on coming. It’s at least another minute before it stops. You wipe your face so you can get a look at who did the hosing. 

“What happened?” Your throat is so dry, you can’t even swallow. It takes you a moment to stop coughing. 

“Why would you do something like that?” His voice is laced with the hurt he’s feeling. It’s the shame that keeps you from looking into his eyes. He didn’t deserve to see you like that. Not after everything that’s happened with him and his dad. 

“I just wanted to have fun.” 

“Cut the crap, damn it!” He slams his hand into the wall making you jump. He’s so angry you can feel it radiating off of him. 

“Rafe should be lucky he’s even alive. I swear, if he ever tries to sell you shit again, it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.” 

“JJ, this isn’t Rafe’s fault. He didn’t force it on me. I asked.” You finally look up to meet his gaze and it almost breaks you. He looks betrayed, like he doesn’t even know who you are right now. He needs to know what happened last night but you have no idea where to start. 

“Why?” One word. Filled with so much more than just a simple question. 

“My dad slipped up again. He was doing so well. 2 months and then I came home and there he was. Drunk and passed out. I don’t know why I thought this time would be different,” you admit looking down at your hands. They’re shaking violently, something that always happens to you after using. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His entire demeanour changes. Suddenly his eyes are soft, his shoulders less tense, he turns into the JJ you know and love. Taking a knee next to the bathtub he uses his right hand to tilt up your face towards his. There’s nothing but love and understanding in his eyes. Of course he knows how this feels and you should’ve just told him to begin with. 

“I’m such a mess,” you whisper not daring to break eye contact with him. 

“But you’re my mess. Same way I’m yours. We’re in this shit hole together,” he promises leaning in. And just like that you can’t get close enough. You climb over the edge of the bathtub landing in his lap so you can wrap your arms around him. Clinging on to him for dear life because you might just fall apart without him. 

“I love you, JJ. I’m so sorry,” you whisper placing a soft kiss on his neck.

“Just promise you’ll talk to me next time. Don’t go looking for answers where you won’t find them.” His tone is gentle, but firm. This isn’t a request but a demand. And you easily comply. 

“Say it back.” You have to hear him say it. You have to know that he’s forgiven you now and that you can move past this. 

“I love you. Even when you drive me mad.” You kiss him needing to feel him in ways you can begin to explain. It’s like he’s fresh air as you break through the water surface. He’s taking a deep breath when you’re ready to collapse. And maybe it’s unhealthy to need another person the way you need JJ, but you can’t help it. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t know how to live without him. And you know it’s the same for him. 

“Let’s get you changed,” he whispers lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. He fetches a big shirt for you and starts to undress you. Even though there’s nothing sexual in the way he does it, you revel in how good his hands feel on your body. 

“Let’s get some sleep.” You cuddle up next to JJ and feel sleep arrive almost immediately. 

“You’re always saving me, JJ.” Then you close your eyes. 

[prince-toffee]

They Come From The Stars

Bow locked the doors behind Glimmer and her guest. He remained outside. This was Queen business, Glimmer could handle it, it was her duty to handle it. She even said herself for him to go back to the party, enjoy the Princess Prom. But the King of BrightMoon, decided to stay next to the door leading into Glimmer’s private study, as he noticed the guest’s plus one didn’t leave either.

Inside, Glimmer felt slightly uncomfortable, she knew something was off, especially because of this urgent and unscheduled visit. Glimmer became silent, creeped quietly around her own study as if it wasn’t hers. Meanwhile, Leviathan made herself quite welcome. As if she owned the place.

The Baroness of Dryl, practically pranced around the room, took a liking to the bottle of alcohol on the table in the middle, Glimmer’s mom’s old work desk, infact this was her study once, hell this castle, this kingdom was all Angella’s. Glimmer tried to grow into it, but it all seemed to be too big, too grand. Leviathan, however, looked like she fit into it perfectly. She poured herself a glass of the alcohol and took a quick pulp of it.

“Glass?”

The Clone Etherian woman asked gesturing with the bottle, again, as if she owned the place, as if she had a right to do, what she was doing. This was it, the feeling of something being off, Leviathan was switching the roles, asserting dominance in the room. She was having a strategic thought process to this. This was highly unlike her, well, from what Glimmer knew. The woman usually bounced into an Alliance meeting and laughed through it, with that nasal voice like her mother. People liked that about her, the silliness, the cuteness. The Princesses didn’t see her often, she spent most of her time back in Dryl. But when they did see her, she was never anything outlandish. It was Entrapta’s daughter alright.

“No thank you.”

Glimmer replied, not wanting to get too drunk at the party, like Adora and Catra, there were kids here. But she realised the Drylian woman poured her the drink already, before she even responded.

Leviathan handed her the glass of the golden liquid. Glimmer plastered a fake smile on her face and thanked her, taking the glass, but not drinking it. Her guest turned around and skipped to the fireplace, looking over all the mantle pieces. Taking another sip of the drink and then giving it a big ��ahh’ as she reached for a breath after the sip. She gave off some little giggles, here and there, with some ‘ooo’s and ‘ahh’s as if she was seeing regular everyday objects for the first time.

“That’s the stuff! Moon-Ra! Drink of the Goddess! Good stuff. You know, my mom did always say that a good time was the key to good health. Cheers.”

That didn’t sound like Entrapta, did it? She had to admit she didn’t know Entrapta very well, no one real did.

Glimmer felt like she knew what all this was about. No one sees her for years at a time. She only crawls out of her Drylian rock if planetary gatherings are enacted, discussing the safety of the planet, or if she needs something. Never responds to any other emergencies. Not if it doesn’t involve Dryl. Glimmer swore she could have filled a library with messages from Dryl going something like this: ‘Oh sorry, must’ve forgot’ or ‘Slipped my mind upsidaisy’.

But Glimmer saw Leviathan last week, in a regular meeting, which had nothing to do with Dryl, well, not until she made it about Dryl. At the end of the gathering, she pulled Glimmer to the side to discuss a matter alone, one on one. Something she didn’t want to involve the rest of the Princesses, since otherwise she would’ve brought it up earlier during the actual meeting.

That’s when the feeling of something being off began, Glimmer never talked to her one on one, only seen her from a distance. But close up she seemed... more aggressive?... irritated?... just strange. Her smiles faded in and out during their conversation that week, like it was hard to keep them up. The short bursts of giggles and chuckles stopped being cute and turned to... frustration?

Anyway, she asked about some import license, for the transportation of a package from Beast Island to Dryl through the Salineas ports. Glimmer denied her. And she assumed this was why she was here.

“God, all this stuff’s soooooo pretty, including all the paintings, you don’t seem like the type to keep paintings. Are they your mom’s? Keeping the room exactly the same, huh? Hoping that mom ‘ll come back, if I just pretend nothing’s changed... Hmm. The magic thinking of orphan girls. That is a silly thought, but you know wh-”

“I’m denying you the import licence. It’s not happening.”

Glimmer cut her off, she put her foot down. She was fighting to take back the dominance in the room. This was her castle and she was the Queen. Some backwater Princess wasn’t going to stomp her. She dealt with greater foes. But... maybe not.

The second Glimmer finished her statement, the harsh answer hit the Baroness of Dryl. The shift Glimmer witnessed, was unreal. Like another person came out of nowhere. Leviathan’s ear to ear silly smile, disappeared. The Clone Etherian turned away from her Majesty and centralised her sight on the glass of liquid she was swirling. Then a smile remerged. But it wasn’t the same one. It was sharper, showing off her canines, darker, like the smile itself was disgusted to be there, her eyes not wide and large, but narrow and irritated, tired. The games were over, Glimmer knew that much.

“Why- Why would you- Do. That.”

Leviathan firmly placed the glass on the table, the liquid spilling out slightly. The prancing and bounce, gone. She placed her arms behind her back and began to march forward, slowly to Glimmer. She already had red eyes, but something in them seemed bloodier. The Baroness stopped right infront of the Princess, a whole head taller than Glimmer, maybe two. She looked down on her. Leviathan combed back her purple hair behind her ear, revealing her two right eyes. This felt too familiar for Glimmer.

“So there’s no convincing you?... Shame... Hey. You don’t think mom and dad would’ve mind if I changed just one thing, do you? Just one little thing.”

Glimmer swallowed, remained silent, never braking eye contact.

“Because, back home. In the Sanctum - that’s where they used to work all night - there’s this painting. Gorgeous one. Beautiful. And dad had it hung up over his work table.”

Glimmer considered the violent option. A light blast from a fist and she’d surely be down. She was half defect after all, she couldn’t have been that tough. There was no threat. She was a Queen, this was her castle, she could handle this.

“But that specific painting was different from all the other ones at home. Dad kept and cherished all the paintings mom painted for him. You know, cats, robots, silly stuff. But this one was different. He kept it for decades, a gift from King Niro of Scorpion Hill. The painting was simple, angels heroically flying down from the skies to met mid-way with the demons coming up from hell below.”

The doors to the room opened up, Glimmer looked to the side, it was Bow. With Leviathan’s plus one, the Queen didn’t recognise her from anywhere. Bow said they had to make the toast now, it was a BrightMoon tradition.

“I believe you can see yourself out.”

Glimmer asked.

“...But they wouldn’t mind. They’d appreciate it. If I flipped that painting upside down. Because we know the truth now, don’t we, angel?... Demons don’t come from hell beneath us...”

Leviathan made her way out of the room. Stopped at the edge of the door frame and finished with a warm ear to ear smile.

“They come from the stars.”

[merffpazuu]

worn when out with a large group of male friends. It also indicated on occasion that men had been out drinking all day in local pubs that would allow them to get away with such clothes—all bad signs for the finely attuned senses of a good bouncer. They’d also on occasion turn away skinheads, men with large visible tattoos, black eyes, scar tissue and so on. To the bouncers they were signs that violence might well be a focal concern of the man trying to gain admittance to the bar. As our researcher became more conversant with the environment, acting like a bouncer became almost second nature and the covert role relatively easy to sustain. He was after all not just pretending to be one of them, he actually was. He was being paid to be a bouncer, and with the job came involvement in virtually every violent incident that occurred in his place of employment during the research period. It was simply impossible to negotiate a peripheral role and still remain ‘one of the boys’. Being one of the boys, however, involved a good deal more than simply breaking up fights and throwing out drunks. Much of the work of bouncers is mundane and involves standing around, bored, for long periods. During these times it was possible to slowly ascertain details about the lives and beliefs of colleagues. Some worked in factories during their daylight incarnations, others worked in the service sector, others did nothing, often devoting themselves to a lifestyle of working out, working on the doors, and getting money from a variety of sources (see Winlow et al., forthcoming). The head doorman at Jimmy’z, the bar which became the focus of our ethnographic research, was a chef. Some of the bouncers were married with children; others divorced with girlfriends; others single and promiscuous. Our researcher found that some aspects of being ‘one of the boys’ were easier than others, and as with most aspects of the ethnography this related closely to his cultural knowledge and background. For him it was easy to endure conversations about violence and gangsters, and this did not disturb him too much or provoke any serious moral outrage. It was also easy to join in group discussions, which usually involved a great deal of piss-taking. It was easy to laugh and joke around with them and discuss aspects of everyday life. They would offer immediate judgments of everything that moved into their field of vision. Opinions about other men were often polarized: they were a ‘prick’, or a ‘wanker’, or a good bloke, rarely somewhere in between. Most importantly, involvement in some violent incidents was simply unavoidable. As expressed in the quote at the start of this paper, saying ‘no’ to violence in this environment was simply not an option, and being on the receiving end of violence was distinctly possible, which tended to place ethical considerations into perspective. As with most research, there were both highs and lows. The highs could be a particularly easy night where nothing went wrong and no major problems occurred. Colleagues weren’t always the ignorant thugs they are often portrayed as, and their company could on occasion be exceptionally entertaining. Just as time dragged on occasion, sometimes it passed quickly, and at the end of the night you would be paid regardless of whether you’d actually done any work or not. The bad times could be the occasional crippling boredom and dread of another night at work. There would be phone calls late at night, colleagues wouldn’t show up, requests upon time and a succession of impositions which of course were really expressions of friendship and closeness. Things had a way of swinging from one extreme to another. The worst research experiences usually involved some form of violence. Some violent incidents were easily dealt with and quickly forgotten, while others remained etched upon the brain for some time. There was blood, 544 GET READY TO DUCK broken bones, threats and curses and kicks and punches thrown. Perhaps the most disturbing is recounted in the section below, and yet it relates more to the effects of engaging in this kind of research into violence than to the violent engagement of bouncers. Just as bouncers had to engage in violence, they also had to witness it with alarming regularity, and what the bouncers saw and did, so did our researcher. Why this incident was considered the most disturbing is also clearly related to our researcher’s cultural knowledge, which allowed us to conduct the research in the first place. He could grudgingly put up with brawling groups of men who occasionally directed violence at him as he conducted his job, and yet it was the following incident that involved only peripheral engagement that was particularly disturbing. Ethnography: bad times So far the evening has progressed without incident. We walk inside the bar on occasion to make sure that everything is going all right and then back outside to the doorway. I watch a group of six women arguing close to the doorway of Gregory’s Bar. There is already some pushing and it seems as though I may have to do something after all tonight, even if it is just to ask the group of young women to continue their argument a little further away from the door. They look like many of the other groups of young women that pass by this way. They seem aged between late teens and mid-twenties, although it’s hard to tell. They’re dressed in reasonably fashionable clothes, and range from slightly to very drunk. They’re talking loudly to make themselves heard, and passing groups of men are looking on amused by the group’s heated discussions. More and more people are beginning to stop and watch. The group are pushing and swearing and there is a hint that violence may result, which is precisely why so many spectators have gathered. A group of middle aged women exit the bar and I move to hold the door open for them. They have to go around the group of arguing young women and I use this opportunity to ask them to move away from the door. They ignore me totally but appear to have got the hint, and slowly begin to move away while continuing to argue. Men are now laughing and some are offering encouragement such as ‘Go on, hit her!’ They are now around 20 metres away from where I am standing, and it is hard to make out who are the main combatants in this melee, but now one young woman has shouted an insult at another, the recipient of which has turned on her heal and begun to walk away. The first young woman continues to throw insults her way until the retreating young woman seemingly has a change of heart, turns, picks up an empty lager bottle from the street and hits the first young woman in the face with it. A hush descends on the busy street. It isn’t funny anymore. Nobody is laughing; in fact there was a palpable ‘Oh!’ sound emitted from the spectators mixed with the sound of thick glass crashing into tender flesh and bone. Almost in slow motion the young woman who has been struck in the face falls to the floor. Her attacker has now dropped the bottle, which smashes when it hits the street, and is walking quickly away. The injured young woman’s friends are now helping her up, and look shocked, remaining eerily silent. The injured young woman has her hand pressed to her mouth. She isn’t screaming or crying, but instantly it was possible to tell that the young woman was badly injured. The bottle made a sickening thud as it contacted with the young woman’s face, and despite the fact that it didn’t break on impact, it seems impossible that such a blow could result in anything less than a serious injury. The young woman is now on her feet and making her way towards me. I snap out of my shocked state when I see Paul [bouncer; colleague] heading over towards the group of young women, putting his arm around the injured young woman’s back to support her unsteady steps. Paul has had some first aid training and is now trying to convince the injured young woman that she should take her hand away from the wound so he can see what damage has been done, and after some gentle coaxing, the young 545 WINLOW ET AL. woman is persuaded to release her grip on the wound. Grudgingly she removes her hand and blood spurts all over Paul’s shirt. One of the injured young woman’s friends has begun to cry as I look at the gory horror. The young woman’s upper lip is split entirely, right up to her right nostril. It’s a wide gash and through the resulting hole it becomes apparent that the woman has also lost at least three teeth. There is blood everywhere. Paul’s shirt now appears tie-dyed red with blood. It’s on the carpet and on the mug that recently held my coffee. The young woman’s bottom lip also appears to be bleeding, and the overall impression is nothing short of horrific. I grab a stool for the young woman to sit on while the manager phones an ambulance . . . Suddenly everyone has become a doctor as the young woman’s friends and other bar customers come forward to offer opinions on what we should do with the young woman, whose arrival and injuries have provoked an incident inside the bar as people attempt to see what is going on . . . Within minutes an ambulance has arrived, accompanied by the police. The young woman is quickly out of the bar and into the ambulance as the police set about finding out what happened . . . Later when a policeman called to take a statement, he informs me that I may be called as a witness in any resulting court case. When I ask how the young woman is, he informs me that, ‘She lost four teeth, 28 stitches to the upper lip, the usual bruising and swelling . . . Shame really. Pretty girl. Turns out she’s only 15.’ While this incident was perhaps the most disturbing, there were many others. It quickly became apparent that violence was indeed a major part of the bouncer’s culture, selfidentity and working environment. Just as it was necessary to take a covert role while researching violence in the night time economy, it was necessary to be reflexive and to take a flexible approach to ethics and the textbook approach to ethnography. Researching violent groups in this way is a matter of continuous adaptation, involving changing roles, and constantly negotiating and renegotiating interaction with the researched group on their own terms. It is impossible to predict what the researched culture and the chaos of circumstance may throw at you over the course of a day’s or night’s research, and while the ability to think on one’s feet is essential, it is simply not feasible to side-step forms of behaviour that one would normally avoid at all cost. And violence does occur with alarming regularity in the night time economy (Hutchinson et al. 1998). In the immediacy of the moment, and especially when the threat of violence looms menacingly over social interaction, it can be entirely forgotten that the reason you are there is to conduct research. Research is what is happening to someone else in some other time. The here and now dictates that you act in a certain way in order that you pass safely through the current crisis, and in all probability into the next one. While conducting much of the ethnography into bouncers and the night time economy, research interests were rarely at the forefront of our minds. Indeed there was so much going on, and the threat of violence in a staggering array of guises was so consistently a consideration, that our researcher was rarely able to consider the minutiae of what was happening until the next day. The fact that being a bouncer involves dealing with violence means that our ethnographer was not able to lurk on the periphery and observe (Whyte 1943). The covert nature of our research did not offer such luxury, for by not engaging fully with his enacted environment, by not being hit and hitting, by not having drunks puking on his shoes, by not putting his body in the way of whatever violence occurred, he would have become the kind of ‘empty shirt’ that is despised by his peers and is ultimately excluded from the profession.4 From the moment our researcher put on his uniform and 546 GET READY TO DUCK 4 We are referring here to the bouncing and not academic profession. identification badge, making it safely through the night and maintaining the persona and access he had worked so hard to cultivate was foremost in his mind. One wrong move, one wrong word even, and it would all come crashing down. Our researcher only had to utter ‘milieu’, ‘sub-culture’ or ‘interaction’ and it would be time to go home or indeed directly to the emergency ward. As an offshoot of this concern, all publications that have arisen from this research have been significantly modified in order to prevent identifying places, individuals and incidents. Complying with formal academic ethical codes when we seek to understand the complex interaction of social worlds that do not acknowledge such bourgeois conceits is an unrealistic tactic, in particular for ethnographers. This is not to say that ethnography is inherently unethical, but rather that if the ethnographer can comply with the normative behaviour and moral code of the researched culture, and if these forms of behaviour do not contrast too sharply with one’s own ethical considerations, then so be it (Hobbs 1988; Tunnell 1998). Indeed our researcher was recruited precisely because of his familiarity with the night time milieu. Further, given the currency that is afforded to violence in the night time economy, it would be naïve, contradictory and outright deceitful to suggest that anyone could ply their trade as a bouncer without being involved in violence themselves. The willingness of our researcher to use (legal) force of varying degrees to escort drunks and recalcitrant customers from the premises, and to defend himself and his colleagues from attack was crucial in gaining the respect of other denizens of the night, and reflexively rendered the sociologist vulnerable to the ravages of the field. R

[littledonkeyburrito]

He just looked at me and my tiny serious expression and said, “No.”

1. What was the reason behind the last time you wore a bandage? I think the last time I wore a bandage was when I hurt my wrist in karate training when I was like 16. I really don’t get injured often.

2. What music artist have you listened to a lot lately? Genitallica. I love their music, so long as I don’t listen too hard and translate the lyrics haha. Then again, they’re barely more dirty than Despacito...

3. Have you ever been to a karaoke bar? Yeah

4. Who is taller, you or your best friend? She is. I am little.

5. When did you last go to a library? I think I went to a library in 2013 to print some documents and get them signed by a JP. That would have been the last time. I can’t believe I remembered that.

6. What did you last purchase at a gas station store? I think the last time I went to a gas station was when my Dad was visiting and we drove through the south of spain. I probably just bought a drink or something.

7. Which time zone do you live in? Central European. GMT +1

8. Do you remember what you wore yesterday? I had to think about it for a second but yes, I do.

9. When did you last lose your voice? It got husky a few times while I was travelling in Central America due to being drunk in clubs/loud bars and attempting to have a conversation with someone.

10. What was the last thing you looked up on the Internet? Give me a sec to check my search history... Last thing I googled was “Dahl Barcelona” because I was trying to find contact info for a shipping company

11. How much did you spend the last time you went out for food? I think it was about 20 euro which tbh was a bit more than I’d like to have spent. I don’t go out much though so it’s not like it broke the bank.

12. What was the last thing you purchased online? A sleeping mask for my brother for his birthday because he does shift work like I used to so I understand the need for a comfortable sleep mask.

13. Do your celebrity crushes tend to be more of actors or band members? Actors. I don’t follow many bands.

14. When was the last time you were at a coffee shop? I have no idea. I don’t drink coffee so I would only ever go if the people I’m with go. The last time might have been that super pretentious coffee place my friend dragged me to in Cartagena in Colombia.

15. Where is the farthest you’ve travelled this week? This week? To the grocery store.

16. Is your first language something other than English? No.

17. Are you a good cook? I’m alright. I like my food but I don’t know how other people feel about it because I don’t cook for others. Tbh I barely cook for me aside from the noodles I make.

18. Did you ever take music lessons for singing or playing an instrument as a child? I took drum lessons for most of highschool.

19. When’s the last time you ran? In the airport in Panama City when I almost missed my connecting flight to San José 20. Do your jeans have rips, tears, and holes in them? No, I don’t like jeans with holes in them 21. Do you celebrate 420? No. 22. Do you get the full 8 hours of sleep a night? When I’m not working/travelling, yes.

23. Have you ever been on your school’s track team? No, but I made it to districts for javelin/shotput a couple of times, and to regionals once. 24. Do you own a pair of Converse? I own a few 25. Did you copy and paste this survey? Sure did. No shame. 26. Do you eat raw cookie dough? When the opportunity arises 27. Do you wear your shoes in the house? Sometimes when my feet are cold I just won’t take them off when I get home. But not in a carpeted house. 28. At what age did you find out that Santa wasn’t real? I approached my dad at approximately age 7 because I’d been having this debate internally about whether santa was real and I was conflicted about it. So I went up to him and straight up asked, “Dad, tell me the truth. Is Santa real?”  He just looked at me and my tiny serious expression and said, “No.”  “Easter Bunny?”  “No.”  “Tooth Fairy?”  “No.”  “Okay thanks,” and then I continued with my life 29. How many phones, house phones and cell phones are in your house? Just my 1 mobile phone.

30. Who would you call first if you won the lottery? I’d message a bunch of people but the first call would be either mum or dad, depending on what time of day it was. 31. Last time you saw your best friend? February. 32. Are you in high school? Fuck no, thank god  33. How do most people spell your name? Maddy. And then sometimes people get my last name wrong even though it’s really easy and not that uncommon. 34. Would you wear a boy/girlfriends clothes? Around the house I suppose I probably would 35. Will you keep your last name when you get married? Probably. Would maybe consider hyphenating if they had a cool name 36. When was the last time you left your house? Yesterday. 37. Do you have a dishwasher? No. My last 2 apartments had one and I never used it anyway.  38. Would you survive in prison? I hope I’d be able to keep my head down enough to not get shanked 39. Who is the youngest in your family? I have a little cousin that’s 14 I think. 40. Do you know anyone with the same name as you? I know several people with my first name but I’m not actively friends with any of them. When I was in grade 10 at school, there were 4 of us, each with slightly different spellings. 41. What’s the last thing you purchased? Groceries 42. What brand are your pants right now? C&A. I stood in the corner of the shop googling for like 10 minutes to find a comparison chart for australian and spanish jeans sizes. 43. Ever been to Georgia (the state)? Just in the airport. The accents are so thick and southern that I couldn’t understand the girl working at maccas 44. Do you watch movies with your parents? Mum and I would often watch movies together when I lived in Aus. Either at her place or at the cinemas. 45. Do you get your hair cut every month? I get my hair cut every 2-3 months. 46. Do you go online everyday? Yep

47. Have you ever experienced something paranormal? Aside from the party pirate ghosts that apparently haunt my apartment, no. 48. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? I don’t think it was the longest but when I left the San José airport in the cab we hit bumper to bumper traffic almost immediately and it took an hour and a half to get to my hotel.

49. Have you ever been to New York City? Not yet 50. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? Probably when my brother and I took mum out for her 50th birthday and we took her to a nice fancy place. I think in all it was close to $100 per person and of course we paid for mum too. 51. What’s your worst travelling experience? Oh god I’m sure I have a few but I can’t really think of any off the top of my head. Getting sick in India in 45 degree heat wasn’t fun. And then having diarrhoea during my flight stopover in southern china (read: squat toilets) was even less fun. 

52. Have you ever dealt with noisy neighbors or roommates? How did that go? At one of my old apartments, my bedroom shared a wall with the bedroom in the apartment next door. They often had sex at like 3am which was super frustrating, especially considering I was still a virgin at the time and was like, “wahh why can’t I be the one getting laid” and then they stopped banging and started arguing and sometimes it sounded like it was getting violent. Anyway, my flatmate and I called the cops on them once because it sounded like she was attacking him and like throwing stuff at the walls. Cops came and spoke to them. They stopped fighting. Month or so later they started banging again. That was not a fun place to live. 53. Who was (or is) the teacher that gave you the hardest time in school? Nah, my teachers loved me. The trick is to suck up to them at the start of the year and from then on so long as you get okay grades you can basically do whatever the fuck you want and they won’t care. I could literally just get up and walk out of class and not come back and they wouldn’t even question it. Actually, I often did but it was usually for a music lesson. But a lot of the time I would go to my lesson super early because I was bored and my drum teacher didn’t mind helping me skip class. 54. How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? It’s fun to drive with those people 55. What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? A couple were fucking on my street a couple of months ago at like 5am. I only looked because I was still half asleep and didn’t recognise what the sounds were until it was too late 56. How reliable is your internet connection? Better than Australia 57. What’s something that makes you incredibly nervous? Confrontation 58. What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up to finish homework/a project? 2 nights without sleep. Here’s a tip kids: Don’t start a 10,000 word research assignment 2 days before the deadline 59. What is the worst thunderstorm you’ve experienced? I grew up in the sub-tropics so there’s been quite a few. I fucking love storms and floods (so long as people aren’t hurt and homes aren’t destroyed) 60. How quickly can you write an essay? Doesn’t matter because I don’t need to 61. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? Yes, actually. It always took me way too long to fall asleep in class. 62. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? Yeah, that time @aturinfortheworse​ got hi fived by Jack Black at a Foo Fighters concert and I didn’t because I have little arms. 63. If you have a job, who is your least favorite coworker/manager? From my old job, my least favourite was probably one of my staff, Dave, because he was such a pain in the ass and always made problems and bitched about people and thought he could do my job better than me.

64. Are your parents supportive of you? Yes. My parents are pretty great. 65. How often do you take the train to go places? Whenever I have to go somewhere that’s not walking distance and not the airport (I bus to the airport)

66. What is the closest grocery store to your house? The closest big grocery store is Carrefour but I don’t go there because it’s right on the tourist strip.

67. When was the last time you colored with crayons? At a mexican restaurant in Panama City called Orale. The table is covered in paper and you get a pack of crayons. Keep in mind that this place is really really not designed for kids considering the amount of tequila they give you. When I went there at the start of my trip I was talking to a guy in Spanish but the music was too loud for me to hear him properly so I just handed him a crayon and told him to write it down. It legit took me over an hour to realise he was hitting on me...

68. Have you met anyone famous? Just at conventions

69. Do you have any special talents? I am weirdly good with money. I can be on the exact same salary as someone else, have more bills to pay than them and somehow I’ll still always have more money than them. I don’t even necessarily hold back in my day to day life. I don’t know how but money stuff just always seems to work out well for me. I suppose that’s a talent. A very useful one.

70. Have you ever been to a nursing home? No

71. What kind of job did your mom have when you were growing up? She had a few different jobs here and there when I was a kid, mostly in retail I think. But when I got to highschool, she went back to college and studied her ass off and now she does really well as an architect (side note: I accidentally wrote arquitecta which is spanish) and she loves her job. It’s great to see her succeed. I’m very proud of my mama.

72. Have you ever known anyone that’s been on TV, including you? There was a guy that came like 3rd or 4th on The Voice a couple of years ago that I went to school with. I also went to school with a girl who now has like 3 olympic gold medals for swimming so presumably she was broadcast on tv.

73. What was the most interesting animal you have seen in the wild? One time an echidna literally knocked on our door. I’ve also seen dingoes, sea turtles, goannas, baby foxes, koalas, kangaroos, wallabies and so much more because I grew up in the Australian rainforest. More recently, I saw sloths.

74. What was the first video game you ever played? Crash Bandicoot 2 on playstation1

75. What is the one thing you own, that if it got lost, you would be bummed? My passport because it would be expensive and a pain in the ass to replace.

76. What do you find yourself buying all the time? Flights. Haven’t bought any for a while though because I’m running out of money.

77. When was the last time you got a real letter in the mail? A few months ago from my health insurance company.

78. Were you born in the state you live in? Not even close. Firstly, I live in a province. Secondly, I was born in a county.

79. What is your favorite cheese? Probably camembert or brie. I like those soft cheeses. Also a big fan of feta.

80. What color are your jeans? Black. When I travel, I assume people think I only have one pair of pants when in reality I’ve probably got 4 pairs of black jeans on rotation that are not the same at all.

81. Do you get embarrassed when the buzzer at the airport goes off on you? I always dress so that it won’t go off. Except one time back in aus I had to go to the domestic airport and go through security to drop some documents off with one of the bosses on his flight changover and I completely forgot I was wearing steel capped boots and was so confused when it went off.

82. What does your last received message say? “NOICE”

83. What’s a smell that makes you feel ill? Puke

84. Have you ever deliberately tripped someone? When I was ~14 some boys at school were playing some tackle ball game thing and one of them ran right by where I was was so I stuck my leg out and tripped him. He got up and kept running. I hobbled to a seat, half thinking I’d just broken my goddamn ankle. It wasn’t broken but it did swell up so much over the next couple of hours that my friend told the teacher and they forced me to go the first aid room. Then my shin/ankle got the most colourful bruise I’ve ever seen in my life. I wish I had photos of it because it was fucking spectacular. I think the last of the bruising took about 3 weeks to fade.

85. Do you have any boxsets for TV shows? I had the boxsets for Buffy and Angel but I gave them to Mum when I moved

86. Are you tired? Usually

87. What was the last TV show you watched? Luke Cage

88. Is your door open right now? No

89. What was the last conversation you had with someone about? Whether I should agree to look after someone’s cat for a week

90. What was the last parcel you received? Probably a tshirt I ordered online a few months ago

91. Is the person you last messaged single? They both are, yes.

92. What color is your favorite bra? Red

93. What is the newest addition to your wardrobe? A red tshirt with little white birds on it

94. Do you have any currency that’s not your native country’s? I currently have 7 different currencies on my shelf, and I had 4 others when I was in Australia

95. Were you messaging someone right before you fell asleep last night? No.

96. Did you have any unread messages when you woke up today? Yep - it was a photo of their cat.