Damn, rock bottom hits different this time 
I’ve never felt it falling from cloud nine 
They say the crash is always worth the high 
But I’m losing my mind 
I’m closing my eyes at night, but I ain’t sleeping 
The forever I saw I can’t unsee it 

I wish I never went down to that bar 
I wish I never walked you back to your car 
Yeah, I should’ve kept my heart to myself 
‘Cause girl I’ve spend too many days 
Feeling things I wish I never felt 
Girl, you were somethin’ else

I wish I never felt what it was like to “go viral”. I was having the best week of my life until Tuesday, and it got a little worse today. Last Thursday I went to a city and colour show and met my fucking hero. Had a great weekend at work, on Saturday got to meet and serve Eddie Vedder and John krasinski, and like an asshole, I asked John for a picture. That picture has now been seen by roughly 200 million people. Yes you read that correctly and I only know that because our pr team reached out with the numbers.

I’ve been extremely uncomfortable for the last day and a half. Last night I went to the show and before hand had a few people come up to me in the street recognizing me from the article. Today a few more articles came out and some had some rude comments, which got me thinking a bit. Most of the comments lacked originality or humor. My personal favorite was “dudes barber stopped half way through” I thought that was a little funny. People came in tonight and mentioned the article and told me I was the guy from the article as if I didn’t fucking know that. It’s been strange and uncomfortable. I think anyone reading this knows me well enough to know, I don’t like attention. I’m the least important person in every room I walk into in my mind. I am not special, I am just an ordinary guy, living a very ordinary life. I work, I go home. If I’m not at work or home I’m either out with my friend Alison, or at shy bird in south Boston. I couldn’t be more simple.

I wish I could release a statement that the media would run, instead of using a photo of me and another Boston guy as click bait. My statement would be “I never said I was Eddie Vedder, and while Eddie is truly one of the most generous and kind people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, I don’t want to be Eddie Vedder. I want to be Jordan McCusker, the 28 year old assistant general manager of the little restaurant in beacon hill. I want to go to work 5 days a week and bus tables and seat guests. I want my life to be private. I don’t really like photos, I don’t like sharing much about my life outside of this little blog, and I don’t really want anyone to know anything about me” It’s one of those things that like, my name is on the cocktail menu at work, and even that bothers me. It’s not about me, it’s about the guest. It’s never about me and I never want it to be.

I do what I do because it’s an opportunity to make things about other people and take the attention off me. Last night being the perfect example.

I know like 6 Pearl Jam songs, do I think they’re a good band? yes. Do I think they put on a show that’ll melt your fucking face? 100%. It’s just not the first thing I’m putting on when I’m listening to music. I accepted the offer for tickets because that night Alison came in for a drink and mentioned that her parents were fans, and she always talks about how much her dad loves music. I didn’t want to go to that show. I had a good time, but I didn’t want to go, I only wanted to give that experience to people who I knew would appreciate it. I’d rather be home watching jack Ryan if I’m being honest. The smiles on their faces, the awe of being so close, the whole thing, that’s what made the show fun for me. Not the music, not Eddie Vedder, it was my friends parents enjoying themselves that made my night.

Even that, I did that because of things I wish I never felt. I remember the day I met alison pretty well, even though she was sideways. I remember looking down the bar and just feeling like I needed to go say something. I went over and started conversation with her and her boyfriend at the time, made them some shots, whatever. They became kinda regulars, and I saw them a few more times. What her boyfriend saw, and what most people see, was the way I look at her.

As F. Scott Fitzgerald says

“She was beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.”

Anyways we’ve become close over the last few months, kinda through me supporting her through her breakup. We have a connection that I cant really explain, I only recognize the feeling of. I’ve only felt it one other time in life. It’s led me to a bunch of things I wish I never felt, and hopefully some day won’t feel.

But I’m losing my mind 
I’m closing my eyes at night, but I ain’t sleeping 
The forever I saw I can’t unsee it 

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.