Saturday, June 12, 2010

Person 1: The Vazz

Sometimes I’m going to write about a person I know, or know of. Why? Your guess is a good as mine. Today, that person is The Vazz.

I think I met The Vazz on a playground by a football field at a school I used to go to. That’s my first memory of him, anyways. I don’t know what we were doing there. I think at this point he had graduated high school (or was about to graduate) and I was not quite a junior yet.

The Vazz and I became friends through Algebra tutoring. I’m painfully bad at math, and The Vazz happens to be a Math Genius. He is also a Metal God and a Computer Lord. I told him that I was gonna need to drop down from of some AP/Pre-AP classes because as usual, I’d overloaded myself. He told me I should stay in Pre-AP Algebra 2 because he’d “help me.” A friendship was born.

The Vazz likes: good steak, talking to pretty girls on the internet, Iron Maiden, his mom’s lemon cake, MacGyver, the game of Life, and forum trolling.

The Vazz dislikes: Emo kids, numetal, buying clothes, the fact that Dio just died, and not getting an attractive waitress at restaurants.

Recent news about The Vazz: he is now officially a US citizen. He’s been in America since he was in elementary school. He has future dreams of becoming at math teacher at the high school we went to and adopting a child and being a single dad.

One of my favorite things he’s ever said is,

“I meet so many girls at work it’s like all of them are my girlfriend.”

The Vazz has no use for a girlfriend. He’s just one of those guys who doesn’t date. As a friend recently said about my mom, “Some birds were never meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too beautiful.”

Fun fact: he can speak at least 3 languages. Russian, Armenian, English and maybe more. He’s a man of mystery, so we’ll never know. In fact you could say he’s an International Man of Mystery and you wouldn’t be making a gross exaggeration.

One more fun fact: The first online journal/blog thing I had was a livejournal. I had it for over a year, and started it way before I met The Vazz. He went back and read the entire thing.

My favorite story about The Vazz:
(Actually, it’s more about his parents. Most if not all of my stories about The Vazz are either about doing math, hanging out at someone house, or eating steak at Texas Roadhouse.)

One night around 8 pm, my friend Perl and I decided to surprise-visit The Vazz. He was living at his parents’ at the time. His dad opens the door and says something like, “He is not here right now, come in!”

Perl and I look at each other and make a silent mutual decision to go inside. We sit awkwardly on the couch. Father of The Vazz proclaims, “You are not minors! Have some Cognac!” (We are indeed minors at the time and Cognac is not our drink of choice.)

Perl: Oh, that’s okay. I’m driving,

Me: … um… no thanks.

Mother of The Vazz walks in and hands us each a plate of lemon cake with a face that says, “go on, eat up!” She may or may not speak English. I still don’t know.

They happen to be watching the news on CNN or MSNBC. Father of the Vazz ignites a political conversation I wish I remembered more of because it was no doubt entertaining. But all I can recall is Perl did most of the talking from our end and I was trying to figure out an exit strategy. Somehow we got out of there and immediately cracked up over how ridiculous that whole event was.

Perl: Let’s do that again!

Me: Really?

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