Chapter 1 Part 1

Chapter 1

The sun is not shinning, the clouds are not beautiful, and the rain is not refreshing. It is after all, another day in Dave’s life, not a fairy tale. Not to say that Dave is not a potential player in a fairy tale, just not as the hero, nor the villain, it’s just that he is no prince charming either. No one would ever say that he isn’t a nice guy, just the opposite, he is THE nice guy, and that is where all his trouble starts. This world is made for the bold, the brash, and the beautiful. The first two count for nothing except to make you appear as an ass to all those that have the third, and having anything without being beautiful is deadly in the social world of North America. You can be a bad boy, and then it matters nothing what your soul, your body, or your bank account is like. You naturally get what you want because you take it. You may not get to keep it very long as the down side of bad comes back to see you, but never the less, you held it for a while. And the easiest of all things to get as a bad boy, is a nice girl. The one thing a nice guy is forever in search of, and forbidden to find.
Dave, most of the boldness beaten out of him, was never one to be brash. He had way too much of that forgotten ideal called manners to be brash. And then there is beauty. That all consuming ideal that stops everything at the door, never bothering to check inside, just look at the surface and move on. It has never been said that his appearance was unsightly, un-kept, or even just plain ugly, it’s just that there were enough flaws to make the package appear unwanted by this cruel world. A little older now, nearing mid fourty, and like so many men, a bit extra around the middle. The one thing that kept this once smiling face from being a bit better has been those pudgy cheeks. It’s a family trait, but all the rest of the family seems to wear it better than Dave. The constantly diminishing hair was starting to take its toll too. Making the years stand out on his face instead of letting the hope and dreams in his eyes show thru. Admittedly, dropping a few pounds, and getting a few thousand dollars worth of hair transplant work done, and ok, maybe bowing to the whims of Hollywood and bleaching his teeth to an inhuman white work too would sharpen things up a bit in the view of the modern world, but whatever happened to loving someone for who they are instead of just the surface.
Dave was a little wet, and thinning hair doesn’t take to well to that, so it was obviously not the best of circumstances, but just being Dave made it natural for him to stop and hold the door open for those coming in behind him. It wasn’t his fault, and it wasn’t his intention to offend anyone, especially “Miss Perfect” Valerie Taylor who just happened to be third coming thru the door.
“You would think that this place would have a decent door man and not some old worn out burger flipper doing that” was the statement she made without a care in the world to what it might hold for Dave.
He was beneath her, and didn’t deserve the thought as far as she was concerned. She never even noticed that he wasn’t dressed like a door man, who was helping another group just a few feet away to get into a limo, or that he came in after her mother and their personal assistant.
One glance at the ladies would tell anyone that had half a brain all they needed to know about two of them, and one glance in the eyes of Lisa, would make you wonder why she put up with Miss and Mrs. Taylor. The mother of the goddess of the world, that is how Valerie views it, was once the goddess herself, but time and tide wait for no man, nor no woman, and when the effects of too many martinis, too much makeup, and 58 years with a perpetual frown on your face start to show, you have a better chance of staying high on the social scale if you have a ragingly beautiful daughter in her mid twenties, and you ride her coat tail for all you can. Lisa, a girl from a modest background and one from the side of life where the idea of enough of anything, even food, is a luxury, was the different one in this threesome, and her eyes had hit the mark when they found Dave’s. She had clawed and scraped and found a way to get herself up to a life where she ran with the upscale crowd. Now she runs everyday, cleaning up after them, taking care of them, and generally being their personal slave more than what her title implies. They look at her as no more than a servant, and she sometimes believed them, but deep in her heart, she wanted more.
Dave was trailing along behind, headed to the elevators just as they were, and although he had no desire to join the group in a close quartered six by six box, listening to Valerie’s rants about her nails, her hair, or how everything had better be as she wanted it. Never mind that she had never informed anyone “how she wanted it” but that the lower life forms should so obviously know her every desire and drop everything in there miserable little lives and take care of her because she is after all, the most important person alive. Realizing that there was not enough time to wait for a second car, and in some small way drawn to the softer and more interesting Lisa, he waited behind them and said nothing as Valerie started again about the woefully inadequate accommodations the over rated 5 star hotel offered. As the door opened to the left, Valerie stepped on and assumed her rightful position in the center of the car, her mother assumed her place to her right, and Lisa struggled with the tiny area left to get properly behind them with the two personal cases she carried. Dave politely stepped passed the two and then slid off to the side of Lisa and gave her a faint but nice smile. To his surprise, she looked back at him and smiled warmly, and that was all it took. Without another thing happening, without so much as a word spoken, it was over. He was smitten, and the next chapter of his life was sealed.
The look of utter disgust and horror that Valerie threw him was not tempered or hidden in any way. It was open malice that she should be sharing an elevator with this lower life form. She now knew, but didn’t care that he was not a door man, or an employee of the hotel, but that he was a guest just like her. Her previous statement was not something she would consider, and of course never feel any shame for. She was so far above this average guy that she couldn’t even imagine the idea of owing him an apology. But as the door closed and Verna, Mrs. Taylor pushed the button for the top floor, she noticed Dave didn’t push any buttons. That meant he was going to use a card key, and the penthouse levels would be his destination. She did a quick scan of this man, like only a true vulture could. She had been using this technique to gather information about people all her life, and she was very good at it, although her daughter didn’t seem to understand its importance, she was well aware of the power that a little knowledge could have. She survived on it now, knowledge and the ear of her stunningly beautiful daughter.
His stance, comfortable, relaxed, but not slouching, even after the statement her daughter made. Yes she noticed the things her daughter said, and sometimes they made her want to strangle her own child, but usually she agreed with her. It was Verna who had infused Valerie with this attitude and personality. Verna just had more to loose and more tact than to be the one saying it. His watch, Mavado, and not a new one, so if he has money it’s not a new thing. His shoes, Nike. Not over done but not showing wear, no help there. Clothes, Tommy shirt tucked in and Tommy jeans. Again a neutral statement, but it all breathed a man that wasn’t flaunting anything. Either he didn’t have it to flaunt, or didn’t need to, so she looked further. Any other jewelry? Yes, a simple Sapphire and Diamond on his left hand and a small stoned ring on his right. Onyx it appears. Ok no wedding ring and still no idea about him. Everything was in good taste, neither too big nor too small, just a simple touch of class. Anything else? No. But something, experience, woman’s intuition, or something triggered alarms in her head, and with a practiced ease, she gave a small humm to her daughter and just like flipping a switch, Valerie turned off the bitch, and turned on the charm.
“Oh well, just listen to me.” She almost sang. “I must have the worst case of jet lag ever, and it does seem to be making me a bit peckish. Please forgive me mother, I know how this must have been rough on you too with all that has been on your mind”
Mother, didn’t have as much on her mind before she entered the elevator, but now as Dave pulled out his card key and prepared for the elevators stop at the 25th floor, she was using all her cunning to get herself into position to see what slot Dave used. The penthouse suites, or the Grand Penthouse. As the door opened, Verna slid quickly to her left and made huge fuss about helping poor Lisa, who had been ignored as usual up to this point, but greed, and all its pals did not have the power to do what real courtesy does with simple grace. Dave was already blocking the door open, by leaving his key in the Grand Penthouse slot, and with the ease of many years of practicing courtesy as a part of his life and not just as a front, he had ushered Lisa forward and managed to get another smile for his trouble.
“Thank you ever so much sir” Verna said as she stepped forward and presented her hand to Dave. “I am glad we were fortunate to have a gentleman here with us today. My name is Mrs. Verna Taylor, and I am in your debt”

Ever the sole of courtesy, Dave did what Dave does, and took her hand and thanked her for her graciousness and the pleasure of her company, along with the other two wonderful ladies. “I hope your stay here is as pleasant as mine has been” he said as he stepped back into the car.
“Please, tell me we have not just met only to find you are leaving the hotel soon” was the over dramatic response from the yet introduced Valerie. “It would be an utter tragedy” she continued following her mothers lead, and making no mention of her other statement, but rather dismissing it without a thought.
“I didn’t mean I was leaving, I am sorry if I gave you that impression, but I have no idea of your plans here in Chicago, and it is a big city. I just didn’t want to be rude and I do hope you enjoy your stay.”
“Are you familiar with Chicago sir?” Lisa added
“Again, I must apologize ladies, in my haste, I have failed to introduce myself. My name is Dave McDaniel, I am honored and pleased to have made your acquaintance” he said as he stepped forward to greet Lisa, but the ever vigilant Valerie would have none of that. She slid so carefully in front of Lisa and used her body like the weapon she knew it to be. Carefully placing each part from hips to lips as close as she could and still have a space to breathe between, then retreating just a few inches, to draw her victim to her. This time, she found a different response than she had ever seen, Dave easily out maneuvered her and kept the distance at a solid foot, and retreated just as Valerie did allowing him to ease left and be closer to Lisa than her. This was missed by no one, and had a profound effect on all three ladies. Lisa had been chosen over Valerie, and Verna had lost control of the situation all in the space of a few heartbeats. As David stepped closer to Lisa and extended his hand, Lisa raised hers to him and at the last moment realized that this would be an incident that her employers would never forget, and even less likely, forgive.
“And your name is?” was all David said, but his eyes and his smile said so much more. Again, none of this was lost on any of the ladies, and David felt it all click in his mind too. And so the journey began.

Memories from a Damaged Heart

More than anything else in this world, our experiences change us. It shouldn't be so, because its never what happens to us that matters, its how we react to it and how we let it affect us that matters. But we don't always remember that do we. You may find this interesting, or you may even relate to it, but we can all understand some of it from our own life. Its a work in progress, just like everything else, but it has given me a chance to express what I have both experienced, and learned from my failures to deal with those experiences in a more positive manner. Enjoy.


Memories from a Damaged Heart

If it wasn't for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. It seems that I get to be the bug for the windshield of life on a daily, if not hourly basis, and it appears to be a permanent condition. I have experience enough of this in my life to be able to say with an expert opinion that the experience is neither pleasant, nor satisfying. The only benefit seems to be that it has been painful enough to keep me aware that I am alive, and I am sure of this because hell couldn't be this bad. That is an observation and opinion based on the fact that at least in hell, it can't get any worse, but still kicking around here on earth, you could get a new kick in the balls at any time, and I always do. When the situation takes a turn from the regular grind of knives in the back, stilettos in the heart, and good sharp stakes in the eye, you get the old faithful kick in the balls. On that rare occasion when the kick in the balls doesn't come, it’s only because the kick in the head is on its way, and it really wants a clear shot. To be honest, the kicks, bites, stabs, stomps and various other injuries are not as bad as the shear terror that something new and unseen before is about to descend on me. I found the time to expect that kind of thing is right after something that seems good has happened, or that news travels to me that it is about to happen. Living in pain is one thing; living in fear has shown me that it can always be taken to an all new level.

Fear that never goes away is the most dehabilitating thing this cruel world has to offer a mortal man like me. It is the one thing that all evil, all hate, and all pain lives on, feeds from and grows with. Overcoming the fear to find hope is the only potential for any happiness is the optimists cry, but I have found that pitfall the most painful, sarcastically cruel, and life damning of all. The mere presence of hope appears to draw catastrophe and its allies, despair, and defeat. There is no rock you can hide under, no armor you can wear, and certainly no friend that can help protect you from it, or soften the blow. That rock will smash you, the armor will trap you, and that friend, well they will be the one to unleash the new flames of hell on you because that’s how it can hurt you even more, by coming at you thru the ones you count on or care about.

Make no mistake, there is happiness, great happiness out there, it is just not meant for me, or those like me who are trapped in this world to be its human targets and empty cans for others to kick around. So as I crash thru this unkind world, it would be smart for you to keep an eye out for me. I may be a little too close to you when the next bomb drops and you could be caught in the blast. Don’t worry; it won’t kill me, that would be too kind. I will just get the usual dose of injuries that are my lot to bear, and that little extra that will catch me in the tender spot as I try to get back up. Get back up I will, because we all know, everyone wants to take a shot at you when you’re down and I don’t need any extra shots. I’ve taken enough for a whole country to get a free pass. So sit back and watch the show, and don’t worry, I don’t expect you to help, it would just be another avenue for punishment. If you do get the opportunity to see it all happen, it would be nice to get a hearty salute to show you understand what is happening, just be aware that I may not have the chance to thank you for it before I get the next low blow, and it will be just enough to keep me from giving you one back. Don’t be angry with me, just know your gesture was appreciated, and more than I usually get.