When Joshua used to live in Hermosa Beach, on Monterey Avenue with a view of the pier and the mighty, majestic pacific from his stairway outside he developed a Summer romance, with Summer, a ravishing, tan beauty from the big island of Hawaii, who he didn’t give enough time for their love to bloom. Truth is, he got scared, one day, when she stood up on her perfect, petite toes to kiss get closer to the much taller, Joshua and made love with her eyes, which killed him inside, knowing he was unable to mirror such a ravishing, heart thumping gaze just yet. But he had every reason to be in love with the Chinese American beauty because she represented the dreamy woman Chris Rock claims who doesn’t exist who enjoyed Seinfeld, Wu Tang and her case old school Metallica, which is friend JT from college who later moved to Hermosa Beach nearby was smitten with from the start. They drank Pyramid Apricot bees by the beach, took romantic day trip wine getaways to Santa Barbara and had lavish Veal Piccata meals in Joshua’s Hermosa beach apartment abode while watching the Soprano’s way before the black screen ending, which would you make you think today, the damn Internet is out again, fucking cloud. At this time, Joshua was working for an IT staffing firm in nearby Manhattan Beach, which was great outside the fact Summer lived a tad father way closer to Long Beach, which was a schlep. Still, Joshua couldn’t resist the seductive charms of Summer, he had zero problem inhaling on the spot. She didn’t even enjoy smoking weed but would do shotguns with him on occasion in front of his friend JT, which drove him crazy with jealousy but got Joshua ultra-aroused long time. So, when Joshua had the opportunity to ditch out on a networking event in nearby Torrance, CA early, he took it. Actually, he had to wait for Rick, to give him permission to leave, who wasn’t owner the company Terry, nor his direct supervisor boss, so he bolted to Long Beach, into Summer loving’s arms. The next morning at work, Terry, the owner of the Thor staffing group, a hulking, constantly sweaty, bald yet distinguished grinder of solid stock, Norwegian descent from Iowa done good, burned holes into Joshua’s eyes with his all-encompassing, stare of disgust filled infuriation before pointing out how unacceptable his behavior was under his watch. “Fucking New Yorkers, you’re all the same. Where your does monstrous ego come from exactly? Rick told you stay and you fucking leave 2 seconds later. If you get wise with me and tell me it was actually more like a New York Minute I will rip both of your arms feed them to my father’s pigs back on the farm in Iowa, are we clear? I should have my head checked hiring another New Yorker. You’re all the same. The world doesn’t revolve around you. The sooner you understand that the better. Now get out of my face before I fire your ass and send you crying back to mommy and daddy to bail you out again.”
Joshua had to take it because he blatantly disrespected Ricks authority when he told him to stay until he gave him permission to do otherwise. Plus, Joshua respected Terry’s killer worth ethic and couldn’t get enough his farm analogies about the farmers who did well were the ones who woke up early and tended their land, who planted various seeds, giving them all the time love and attention needed to grow up to their full potential. Joshua was burnt out on IT recruitment after doing it 4 years straight without ever taking a vacation more than a night time trip and back to Tijuana, only for him to decide picking out a hooker to bang in a line to chose from was too much indecision, for his neurotic, more nice than always naughty, Jew boy fixated on dying of HIV prematurely could bear. After getting fired at Thor, for spending time on Monster.com looking for a job, which had anything else to do but IT recruitment, he started to do wine sales, focusing on the regions of San Fernando Valley and Pasadena. Now, he felt like glamorized Schleper, spending more time in the car on the 405 than he did in wine shops and restaurants actually selling wine. But he did meet anther girlfriend after Summer from Indiana, who also tasted great, especially ice wine in her innards from Lake Ontario. It was impossible not to think of this girl Melissa from Indiana, with her huge beamish smile, and mountainous, juicy, not too droopy round of mound, breast as Golda the conservative talk show host at the Jewy Manhattan Book Club, offered him some Ice Wine from Canada she picked up at a new wine shop on the Upper East Side, before their talk about Ayn Rand’s Atlas Shrug ensued. The Jewish Godmother hunt had just begun. Summer also suggested she’d day trade while he wrote novels for a living in Santa Barbara, ah, those were the days.