As much as I wanted to write about something more relevant, like Valentines, or women, or whatever other stuff people constantly post about on Facebook. I felt like this story was more important to me to share.. sorry if it disappoints some.. but uhh here we go.

So. I had an interesting night.. on Saturday February 11th. I really thought life was just rough.

I went to LA to celebrate my friend Donnies birthday at this karaoke bar called Brass Monkey.. of course he didn’t give me the heads up to tell me that it was 21+ so I get there to find out that I wasn’t able to get in.. but my mom hardly gets out so I wanted her to go in while I made some phone calls outside.

After some of my other friends that were there try coming up with a way to try to get in.. all we can think of is using Donnies passport to try and get me in so I try again when the bouncer switched… like a dumbass I hand him the passport not thinking that Donnie himself was standing by the door calling me over.. so the door man took one look at Donnie and called bullshit. Of course like a dumbass, I didn’t memorize the birthday on the passport which is stupid because its only 5 days after mine (Feb 25) and he asked when my birthday was and I was like uh… um… July? Uhhhh july 23?… 1981? HA
So he just took the ID away and told me to leave.

I tried like half an hr later with my real ID to level with him and tell him that I would be 21 in like 8 days to cut me some slack, but they weren’t to fond of me at that point after I had just tried getting in with a false ID. So I was told to beat it.

So after my mom gets a little bored and we take off.. and at this point im kinda irritated because I couldn’t get in, whitney Houston has just passed away.. and im just like reeling with thoughts in my head about LIFE in general. So my mom wants to take me to either a landmark sandwhich shop or a taco truck. To both im like.. well wtf. I can get that anywhere else… but like I said she doesn’t get out very much so we head out to find this taco truck (that’s what we decided on) and we get a little lost.. and with my mom ive always been short tempered which is something I get to work on, but regardless im getting a little heated.

FINALLY, we get to this taco truck. And its parked on the corner of like Sunset and Everett.. shady little spot. But we walk up order some tacos.. and my mom says to me, “Well I never thought I would show you where me and your dad met”

Astonished, I asked, “You guys met at a taco truck?” Like real romantic right?

She says no.. and points down the street at a little rundown looking night club. We met there.

“El Bahia.”

So im like speechless at this point. But im also distracted because I have like 6 tacos infront of me with, of like every meat. Carne asada, pollo, cabeza, etc etc. AND SOME HORCHATA! Love horchata. So as I eat, she starts talking to the trucks owner and how the truck has been around for 48 years, he put his 5 children through college with this little truck. They reminisce about people they knew, and memories they had and such. All the while im having miniature orgasms in my mouth.

But still thinking, holy shit. That’s where my parents met. That’s where I started. On this run down part of town, this whole in the wall. This shady taco truck. This is me. This is my origin.

Origin. A really powerful word in my mind.

And I’m inspired. So I originally wanted this story set to be in three. But I know people now a days have a short attention span, so I’m going to space it out into 4 different wednezday stories.. I hope that you all will tune in to read them.

I really do feel as if these will be some of the more personal stories I will tell.

Is my story worth reading to you? Will you take this trip back with me? Will you relate? Will you share my emotions?

Ultimately, is my story worth reading?