Mike's Journal

Chapter 10

(Hi. I return with a new chapter. I'm sorry this has taken forever to get put up. But Wattpad is being dumb as well as my internet.

Anyway. I really hope you guys like this chapter.

Please tell me if you guys think I need more of something.)

September 10, 1965

Dear Journal,

I'm sorry I haven't been writing as regularly as I should, but it's been pretty much the same thing every day plus I've been practicing for amateur night at the Vincit Van Gogo. I'm nervous about it. What if they don't like my style of music and I get booed off the stage? Guess I'll worry about that some other time. Right now I need to think of right now.

I was filling out an application for a waiter job today at a Mister Stake when this guy shows up at my elbow and tells me I used the wrong stake. I look up was this guy about my age in a Mister Stake uniform smirking at me. I asked him if he was the spelling police. He said no, but if I wanted to job it might help if I learned how to spell the company's name right. I was going to tell him to butt out and leave me alone, but before I could he took my application and sat down and started writing on it. It took me a full minute before I realized he was correcting my spelling. After he got done he went over and grabbed a new application and told me to copy down everything I wrote and the correct spelling that he wrote over my wrong spelled words. So I did as he wanted me to and handed it in. I thought that was going to be the end of it but oh no. This guy said that he was taking his lunch break early and followed me outside and down the street, jabbering like a bluejay. He said that his name was Mac or Mitch...something with an M and he lived in California his whole life. He saw that I was carrying my guitar and asked if I played. I said no, I just carry it around for exercise.  He apologized then asked where I came from. I told him that it was none of his beeswax and walked faster to get away from him. But he kept up with me all the way to my pick up. He said that I had a cool truck and wished me luck on finding a job then turned around and left. It was weird.

Anyway, I'm off to bed.

Mike.

September 14, 1965

Dear Journal,

Where do I begin? I guess with yesterday. I went to the library and read for a bit, I started reading Death of a Citizen I can't check it out of course because I don't have an address yet, but I'm hoping I will soon. I also wrote a letter to Ma and the family. I think she might be getting worried that she doesn't have an address to write to me yet. Maybe I should see how much a PO box would be and rent one.

The amateur thing was yesterday night and it was kind of fun. I think they liked my songs so that's good. It was a pass the hat kind of pay and I got maybe five bucks. Not the best, but at least I can build a reputation with my songs and someone will offer me a record contract or something. Saw that Mac person as I got up on stage to sing. He sat through my whole set list and as I got off stage he said that I was really good and asked if I wanted to sit down and talk. Since I had nothing else going on and I wanted to hear the other people perform I thought what the hell and followed him over to where he was sitting. Turns out the guys' name is Micky with no 'E' in it. The no E sounded like he has said it a lot so I questioned him about it. Turns out he had teachers in grade school who spelled his name with an E and he got so sick of it and just started introducing himself as Micky with no E.  He went on to say that it was short for Michael and that Michael was his middle name, and George was his first name but no one called him that because his dad's name was George as well and it got confusing. He said to make it even more confusing they had a dog named Mickey as well. I'm starting to think this guy is just naturally chatty. He quieted down some as someone else took the stage and started singing. This guy was good, not the best, but he was good. Then there was some folk group doing a cover of Joan Baez. I didn't really pay attention because I'm not that into folk songs, to be honest. I like some of Bob Dylan but I'm more into country. Anyway, after everyone got done, I got up to go and Micky followed me out to my truck. I asked him why he was following me and he said that maybe we could hang out sometime. I said yeah sure and got into my truck and left.

Today I went to see how much it would be to rent a PO box. For a small one, it's 45$ a month. So for now renting one is out of the question. Had another meeting with the county today to talk about when I can receive SNAP. They said I was an 'Emergency case.' and said I can get it as soon as tomorrow. They said that they had the phone number of the shelter I was staying at and they'd call there once they got all my paperwork in order. Then I can come back and get some stamps to buy food with. 

Well, I'm off to bed.  

Mike.