Lately for some reason I’ve been thinking about influential people from my past. Some of them I miss and think about often; others I know I am better off without. There is one person I can’t quite place in either category, but I wanted to tell the story and say thank you…even though it’s a few years late.
I met Joe through Brian, who I met through Ashley. The four of us went to some house party together and Joe was the designated driver. Ashley had a little too much to drink and we were having a hard time convincing her to leave with us. Joe wanted to teach Ashley a lesson and just leave without her, but Brian wouldn’t let him. From that night forward, Joe thought that Ashley was pretty stupid but that I was pretty cool.
That summer I ended up living with Joe for a few weeks when I subleased Brian’s room in the Harrison house.
Joe was what most adults would refer to as a “punk ass kid,” and they are pretty accurate. He was never a boy I could bring home to Mom and Dad. Although he was Italian like much of my own family, he had several tattoos and a mohawk to boot. Joe’s entire wardrobe consisted of one color, black, with the exception of one red t-shirt that he wore on laundry days. I was always telling him he should wear more red because it complemented his Mediterranean complexion. Even Joe’s already dark brown hair was dyed black — I know this only because I once spotted a bottle of hair dye in Joe’s bathroom and asked him about it.
Joe was so blunt and honest that it hurt. He wasn’t afraid to let anyone know what he though about them or to resort to drastic measures to get his way. Once, he unplugged my computer from the Internet because I was downloading bittorrent files and it was slowing down his X-Box Live connection in the other room. Classic Joe move.
Joe was also the most loyal son of a bitch I’ve ever met; and I don’t understand it, but for some reason, Joe liked me. Maybe it was because I liked video games or because I had a few tattoos of my own. Or maybe it’s because we both shared a secret love for Pirates of the Caribbean. Whatever the reason, Joe looked out for me.
I distinctly remember a time walking down Grand River, drunk as skunks. Joe and I were walking with Colin and Mandi to Pinball Pete’s. I mentioned that I had downloaded some Social Distortion songs. I thought they were good, but nothing to write home about. Mandi wheeled around, ready to punch the living daylights out of me. But Joe intervened. Why he stopped Mandi from kicking my ass, I will never know.
While Joe’s personality might seem brash, he was never anything but nice to me. I suppose I should mention that I went on a few dates with Joe. We went bowling and to the movies and to Denny’s — and Joe always paid. He would come and pick me up from Hubbard at a moment’s notice even though I definitely could have walked/biked to his nearby apartment.
I’m also afraid that I wasted one of my best first kisses on Joe. On my 19th birthday, Joe and I split a fifth of whiskey and then he drove us to his apartment to play Halo. In the car on the way there, I kissed him at the stoplight at Grand River and Collingwood. The next morning I woke up in his bed fully clothed and found Joe fast asleep on his couch.
Joe and I never ended up as more than friends because I learned from Brian that Joe was still sleeping with his ex-girlfriend. Our friendship didn’t even really change after that. Joe taught me the art of grocery shopping and introduced me to Bolthouse farms vanilla chai. He rode in my new car with me while I was still learning to drive stick and when I apologized for the jerkiness he would always just say, “Don’t apologize to me, apologize to your transmission.”
I almost feel bad for saying this, but I once explained to Ashley that Joe and I were a lot alike. I saw so much of my own personality in Joe; it was like he possessed all of my bad traits amplified. Joe is who I would become if my personality were allowed to run rampant: stubborn, loud, lazy, a badass on the outside but a hopeless romantic on the inside.
The last time I spoke to Joe was the fall of my sophomore year. All summer he had tried to tell me I was wasting my time pining over a particular boy, and it later turned out he was right. I called him as I walked past the University Aud, slightly intoxicated and nearly hysterical. Joe ignored a lot of phone calls but he always picked up for me.
“I just wanted to tell you that you were right about everything.”
Because he always was.
So thank you, Joe, for teaching me about life, other people, and myself.
