Josue is, simply put, a strange little man. Recently having turned eighteen, he is now an adult, although neither his persona, nor body type, would indicate such maturity. Josue is almost unbelievably skinny; to such an extent that I am almost convinced he can fit beneath the crack between a door and the wall.  Despite this, he swears that he has a six pack, but will not let anyone see it. Josue is also fairly short. I have not personally measured him, but I would imagine he stands somewhere around 5’5. 

            Josue always seems to wear a shirt or jacket worth at least a hundred dollars, and a ten dollar pair of jeans. He is very proud of the way he dresses, for some unknown reason. He also has glasses, as he is entirely blind without them. His favorite way of loitering is to lean back on a wall, fold his arms, and watch the people walking past him. He often greets people while using this stance. When walking in a group of people, he stays off to the side, and talks the entire time so nobody else can get a word in. On occasion, he will forget what he was talking about mid-sentence, utter an inhuman slur of sounds, and continue to walk without acknowledging that it had even happened.

            Somehow, Josue is extremely confident. He claims that he would be a fantastic boxer, or Mixed Martial Arts fighter. These are blatant lies, but he continues to speak them. He is also extremely proud that he is being trained to be a manager at a local Wendys. He is so proud of this, in fact, that for the past month and a half, he has mentioned it every single day, holding his soon-to-be managerial position over his head as if it were a trophy.

            I met Josue during my junior year of high school, in Journalism class. Our teacher was sitting in the back of the class, staring blankly at the wall, and not at all watching his classroom. I was sitting there, minding my own business, and doing my classwork. Then Josue ruined it all. He chose the seat next to me, and sat in it.

            “Hey.” said Josue.

            “Hey.” I responded.

            “What’s up?” he asked.

            “Nothing really.” I said dryly.

            “You know, Nickelback is my favorite band.” said Josue.

           Josue claims he was joking when he said that, and just trying to start conversation, but I only half believe him. What I do believe, however, is that this is one of the two ways he knows how to start conversations. He either blurts out something personally insulting, or repeatedly says “hey” over and over. These are the only ways I have ever seen Josue start a conversation, and I sometimes worry that he doesn’t understand human interaction.

            I don’t know why I am Josue’s friend. I do not respect him, or appreciate his company. Josue is sometimes tolerable, and very rarely, he is actually enjoyable company. Most of the time, however, he is a complete and utter mystery. He does not act the way other humans do, he has unmatched pride, and he never shuts his mouth. I do not understand Josue, nor do I think I ever will. I don’t know if anyone ever will. In fact, I do not know if Josue even truly understands himself. He is too strange, too awkward, too… incorrect. In a world full of cogs and gears, working together to create something bigger, Josue is a rubber duck. He blocks the gears, interferes with their work, and nobody has the slightest idea how he came to be here.

 

 

People remember their first time for the rest of their lives.  Some people grasp that first love and let it grow. I remember my first time just like it was yesterday.

            It was a warm September day. The sun was beaming and the weather forecast for the day called for a high in the low to mid 70’s. Of course, like any other day in Wisconsin, there was a chance of scattered showers throughout the day. Growing up in Wisconsin, I had learned to expect the ever present chance of a spattering of rain. This day seemed like any other September day I had experienced hundreds of times over. Little did I know, my life would be forever changed on this day.

            My girlfriend, Christie approached me and questioned, “Are you doing anything today? If not, do you mind taking a road trip with me as I have some business to take care of?”

            “How long would we be gone and what do you have to do?” I asked.

            “Most of the day and don’t worry we will have fun as the business aspect is the shortest portion of the trip,” explained Christie.

            Not sure what was going on, but knowing that I had no plans and had only been dating Christie for a little while, I figured I would play along. “Sure, do I need to bring anything?” I inquired as I approached the car.

            “Just yourself, honey!” she belted out.

            Of course, this peaked my interest. What business did she need to take care of? Where were we headed? Is this girl really into me? All great questions that I hoped would be answered by the end of this trip.

            We had been on the road for over two hours and I had little luck in prying any piece of information out of Christie as to where we were going and what the intentions were when we arrived there? I knew that we were heading north on I-43 and a warm breeze flooded the vehicle with the faint smell of burning leaves. Traffic wasn’t horrible, but mildly congested. I continued to try and pry out any bit of information from my, suddenly much quieter, girlfriend. There was no cracking this girl. She was just not giving up anything.

As we passed Sheboygan, my thoughts raced at where this journey was headed and what we were going to be doing. I guess she wasn’t kidding that the business aspect would be the shortest part of the trip. I conceded that I would just have to wait until we arrived at our destination to see what she had up her sleeve.

“Are we close yet?” I sighed.

“Patience honey, it will be worth the wait,” she said in a sultry voice.

Now the anticipation was killing me. What could it be? I again sat back into a now suddenly uncomfortable bucket seat and waited in eager anticipation. All of a sudden, the car slowed to a snail’s pace. We were caught in traffic in what seemed like a line of vehicles waiting to pay a highway toll. I thought to myself, Wisconsin does not have toll roads. I realized that there was a Packer game going on and unfortunately, we were arriving at what seemed to be the same time as people going to the game were arriving. The breezy, sunny day now seemed like a distant past as we had been in the car for what seemed like enough time to fly Florida and now were stuck in traffic. Being somewhat frustrated at this point, I exclaimed, “I sure hope we are close to wherever it is you are taking us!”

Not daunted, she replied, “Patience honey, we are just about there.”

All of a sudden, out my window gleams the shining beacon of NFL history, known as Lambeau Field. I have never witnessed her grandeur in person before. She is majestic against the clear blue skyline and is the envy of all football fans nationwide; even though most will not admit it. All these people were flocking to her, as if she was some sort of super model. Tom Brady may have Gisele Bundchen, but Packer fans have Lambeau Field. When Gisele has long since left Tom, Lambeau Field will still be the loyal companion to all Packer fans. I abruptly realized I was staring out the window when I looked back at Christie and she was smiling. Puzzled, I inquired, “What are you smiling about?”

Proudly she said, “This is our destination and the business I have to take care of is attending today’s Packer game with you.”

I was floored. I was about to experience the pinnacle of what every Packer fan strives for. The love affair is completed and the connection grows stronger once you have been able to witness your beloved team on its hollowed ground.

The anticipation on that day continues to be a memory that I wish I could capture and duplicate. It was this day that I realized my first love was something to be cherished. In the short time that we had known each other, Christie knew me well enough to know that this would be something that I would remember for the rest of my life. My love for this woman started on this day. I grasped that love and let it culminate into a lifelong commitment. This was the women who I would marry.

It is true, everyone remembers their first time.