About some guy I knew who died.

Posted by Ferret on Feb. 7, 2014, 3:02 a.m.

So here is this strange story I feel like sharing, cause, I don't know.

So one day recently my mom asks me, "do you remember a guy named Ryder Buck?"

"Yeah, why?"

"He got hit on the 2 freeway after his car broke down on the street"

The hell right? I told my mom how I hadn't seen that guy since highschool, but that was a lie. In highschool Ryder was on the water polo team a tier above me, so we saw each other just about everyday for those first few years of high school. I've always sucked at sports, but especially so while in high school during the time when everyone had hit and grown from puberty well before me. I took a lot of flack for it while I played with them, was probably the worst on the entire team. I couldn't do anything about it except to try and not fall behind everyone else even more that I already was. Almost everyone, save for my one friend on the team, was pretty shitty to me, just as high school kids always are in general. Ryder was among them, though he wasn't a major player and was only following what everyone else was doing; not that it excuses anything, but I understand why he did it too. Once I had enough years playing that sport to cover my PE credit score, I jumped ship and at the same time got as far away from everyone on the team as possible.

It wasn't until after Ryder's death that I learned about his fight against cancer. Chemotherapy and all, he battled this shit for I don't know how long, all the while he pursued music. Formed a band and played on small stages, used his father's connections and got attention from some pretty big music artists. And he survived, he was rid of all his cancer and was going to live. He got to meet some of his heroes in the music industry and started recording his music in studio and everything.

Then one night, two of his tires blow out on the freeway. He drives down the off-ramp and pulls over on the street. Next thing we know, he's walking towards the freeway divider in the center, through fog. He gets hit by one car, thrown over the windshield, and hit by another car.

The cops come to the report, clean up the mess and find his car. In his car, Ryder's phone was lodged in the seat cushion where it's presumed he couldn't find it. And that is just about all we know.

Now sit here for a second and think about this shit. His parents pumped loads of money into this guy, just as any parent in this situation would. And they're pretty well to freakin do, I mean, his dad co directed Disney's Frozen for god's sake, so it's safe to assume between the music and the cancer, they pumped in more money that any of us will ever likely to see. His dreams were being realized, he was meeting all sorts of famous people in the music people, got a gig to open for his favorite band (which he died before doing), and had fucking survived cancer.

And walks onto the goddamn freeway.

For all you that don't know what a Californian freeway looks like or how wide it is, here is a pic.

The last time I saw Ryder Buck, I had been working cashier at a Panera Bread and he walked up to order just about as reluctantly as I was to greet him.

I hate seeing people from high school at work, not only because most of them were asses, but just because I can feel the same judgement they passed way back then again when they see me working in a low paying job like this one. Where I live, a majority of the kids are rich, that means not working a day of their lives until after college. Not that there is anything wrong with that, if you have that advantage fucking take it and run with it, I'd do the same; just don't judge the guy who is going through college slower because he's working to pay food, gas, and/or rent.

So he said hi to me, and I said hi back. He made his order, and I took his order. Then at that awkward moment when the cashier is counting the customer's change, he says to me "Hey Garrett, sorry about all the shit that happened in high school."

I looked up at him unsure if I heard what he said. I didn't feel any emotion, numbness describes it best; for a moment I was back at high school figuring out the angle, how this could be a trick. The next moment I was saying, "It's okay."

Not the most convincing response, so I shrug, hand his money, and say, "it was high school, that's just the way it was."

"Yeah," was all he could say before walking away.

I didn't see him leave the store.

(Source)

Comments

NeutralReiddHotel 10 years, 3 months ago

I'm confused by your story/blog

Quote:
So here is this strange story I feel like sharing, cause, I don't know.
Here you don't sound very affected by what you're about to post, but you do because you're posting it.

Quote:
The hell right? I told my mom how I hadn't seen that guy since highschool, but that was a lie. In highschool Ryder was on the water polo team a tier above me, so we saw each other just about everyday for those first few years of high school. I've always sucked at sports, but especially so while in high school during the time when everyone had hit and grown from puberty well before me. I took a lot of flack for it while I played with them, was probably the worst on the entire team. I couldn't do anything about it except to try and not fall behind everyone else even more that I already was. Almost everyone, save for my one friend on the team, was pretty shitty to me, just as high school kids always are in general. Ryder was among them, though he wasn't a major player and was only following what everyone else was doing; not that it excuses anything, but I understand why he did it too. Once I had enough years playing that sport to cover my PE credit score, I jumped ship and at the same time got as far away from everyone on the team as possible.

It wasn't until after Ryder's death that I learned about his fight against cancer. Chemotherapy and all, he battled this shit for I don't know how long, all the while he pursued music. Formed a band and played on small stages, used his father's connections and got attention from some pretty big music artists. And he survived, he was rid of all his cancer and was going to live. He got to meet some of his heroes in the music industry and started recording his music in studio and everything.

Then one night, two of his tires blow out on the freeway. He drives down the off-ramp and pulls over on the street. Next thing we know, he's walking towards the freeway divider in the center, through fog. He gets hit by one car, thrown over the windshield, and hit by another car.

The cops come to the report, clean up the mess and find his car. In his car, Ryder's phone was lodged in the seat cushion where it's presumed he couldn't find it. And that is just about all we know.

Now sit here for a second and think about this shit. His parents pumped loads of money into this guy, just as any parent in this situation would. And they're pretty well to freakin do, I mean, his dad co directed Disney's Frozen for god's sake, so it's safe to assume between the music and the cancer, they pumped in more money that any of us will ever likely to see. His dreams were being realized, he was meeting all sorts of famous people in the music people, got a gig to open for his favorite band (which he died before doing), and had fucking survived cancer.

Here you sound like you care for the guy to a certain extent. Kind of like for example, you go into your school cafeteria every day, and see the same lunch lady every day that she sometimes smiles to you, and you do this for years, smile at each other without ever becoming friends. Then suddenly, one day she's replaced with someone else and you feel SOME sort of loss, because you got used to seeing that lunch lady there. You start to miss the smile a little, and you think about it for a day or two, then the memory of her goes away until someone brings it up.

I can see you care about this guy in that way the way you wrote about him. But then…

Quote:
So he said hi to me, and I said hi back. He made his order, and I took his order. Then at that awkward moment when the cashier is counting the customer's change, he says to me "Hey Garrett, sorry about all the shit I said in high school."

I looked up at him unsure if I heard what he said. I didn't feel any emotion, numbness describes it best; for a moment I was back at high school figuring out the angle, how this could be a trick. The next moment I was saying, "It's okay."

Not the most convincing response, so I shrug, hand his money, and say, "it was high school, that's just the way it was."

"Yeah," was all he could say before walking away.

This makes it sound like you care nothing about him. Like he might as well be an NPC from an RPG.

what happened to the guy sucks, but the way you talk about him confuses me.

Ferret 10 years, 3 months ago

The whole situation confuses me, I neither truly knew the guy nor liked him. Then he dies in the most dumbfounded way after escaping death by cancer. Maybe I didn't write the last few lines well, but when he said he was sorry to me at work, it made me realize how I never really knew him, and that he probably grew up just like everyone else, but that part was supposed to feel empty.

His life was weird, and I don't really have any feelings towards him, and I guess that's kind of weird too. So I thought I'd share that weirdness here.

eagly 10 years, 3 months ago

This is pretty profound. Thanks for sharing it. It's so strange to see things like this happen to people you spent so much of your life with, whether you liked them or not.

F1ak3r 10 years, 3 months ago

It's like a dark ironic joke.

Quote: South Park
It is sometimes hard, in times like these, to understand God's way. Why would he allow nine innocent people to be run down in the prime of their lives by a senior citizen who, perhaps, shouldn't be driving? It is then that we must understand, God's sense of humor is very different from our own. He does not laugh at the simple ‘man walks into a bar’ joke. No, God needs complex irony and subtle farcical twists that seem macabre to you and me. All that we can hope for is that God got his good laugh and a tragedy such as this will never happen again.