My Education
My Weekends
My Religion
My Information
My Guilty Pleasure
My Role Model
 
For Your Eyes
For Your Ears
For Your Palate
For Your Touch
For Your Gag Reflex
For The Love of God
 
 

Tuesday, February 01, 2005

The Party

When I was a young man, about thirteen, I had my first serious relationship. Her name was Robin. She wore a WWJD bracelet non-mockingly, the cross dangling around her neck actually meant something to her and she even went so far as to not call attention to her newly developing breasts like every other girl felt compelled to. I’m pretty sure her innocence is what first drew me to her. That and she had a really nice ass... Anyway, when I first met Robin she already had a boyfriend: a 9th grader named Beau. I had no clue who this guy was, only that his name was Beau. What the hell kind of a name is that anyway? Whatever. Regardless of how corny his name was, he still had what I wanted. It became my mission to dethrone this Beau from my rightful kingdom of Robin.

Over the first few months of the school year, I became pretty good friends with her. We’d talk on the phone at night, talk in the hallway between classes, and she even convinced her group of friends to move their table over by my group’s in the lunchroom. Our little social circles were gradually becoming fully intertwined. When my friends and I went out to the mall to pick fights and not buy things, Robin and a few of her friends tagged along. When my friends and I went to the local cineplex to take in a film, she and they tagged along. It was a long process, but it was coming together just as I had envisioned.

Around Christmas time(Chankikah or whatever for you Jewish folk!), Robin and I were both invited to a party. I don’t know what kind of parties you went to when you were in 8th grade, but the ones I went to were pretty goddamned stupid. Everyone would stand around sort of awkwardly chit chatting while N*sync or the latest Robert Goulet album played in the background. Very dumb. Anyway, a couple of my friends and I arrived fashionably late and strutted out of the crowded, smoke filled car toward the house of the party; a trail of cologne strong enough to make babies and old people gag and die followed behind us as always. We barged into the front door like the suave individuals we were and followed the sound of music(not that sound of music, oh my gosh!lol) into the basement.

When first entering the basement, the wall of body sprays, perfumes, aftershave, and what could’ve been a dead hobo being decomposed by lye and chlorine gas hit my face. Through the blur of the tears in my eyes I saw that the main lights of the basement were off. The only thing illuminating the large, square room were Christmas lights hung around the ceiling. As I closely investigated the crowd, I noticed a bunch of people I knew from school, all assholes, but couldn’t spot Robin. I figured she must’ve been a little bit late or something, so I made my way over to the bowl of punch and tray of goodies to have a little snack to eat my anxiety away like females usually do. As I munched my Keebler Grasshopper cookie(excellent choice if you’re ever in the market for cookies), I peered over to the stairs leading to the basement and spotted her. Oh my beautiful Robin. It was like a scene from a bad teen movie: her walking in slow motion down the stairs, pausing on one of the bottom steps and smiling coyly, a fan blowing her hair around, lights conveniently coming on to glare off of her supple body... Well no, none of that happened at all, she kind of just walked into the basement, but don’t fuck with my dreams, mmkay?

After I finally traversed through the swarm of vaguely dancing people reached her, she was talking to some guy I’d never seen before. I interrupted what looked like a good conversation and said, "Hey Robin, long time no see." She giggled in her sweet innocent giggle and reminded me that I saw her about 5 hours ago when we were at school. Boy was I an idiot. After a few awkward seconds she introduced the guy I had never seen as Beau, her boyfriend. He looked so smug with his green wool sweater, khaki pants and leather dress shoes. Fucking 9th graders. My poor thirteen-year-old mind couldn’t handle this situation rationally, so I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head, "Hey Robin, you should try the cookies over there. They’re fucking awesome." I had to say "fucking" to prove that I was a tough guy and my penis was a lot bigger than this Beau guy’s. He glared at me with his condescending rat-like face and beady brown eyes, then said, "We’ve already eaten... At the Olive Garden." Ugh. I knew I was defeated when he pulled out the Olive Garden card. How could I compete with that? A never ending pasta bowl? It’s like a buffet without the NASCAR shirt wearing vagabond piling as much mac and cheese onto his cheap plastic plate to avoid paying for separate plates for his family standing in front of you. My mind was racing. All this time I imagined Beau as some skinny kid with a speech impediment and one leg that was way shorter than the other. Now that I was confronted with the truth I couldn’t handle it. I said that I wanted to dance and talk to some other people and left them to be alone.

It was well known that I wanted to "get jiggy" with Robin(Will Smith... talented fellow), so the news of me being shot down spread like a wildfire through the basement. This wildfire didn’t burn trees and bunnies though, only my fragile little heart. Awwwwww. As I was standing in the crowd of people gabbing it up with one of my fellow classmates, one of my friends came over and tried to console me. He said, "Don’t worry man, she’s a dumb slut anyway. She was just toying around with you in her sadistic little way. Plus she’s a Christian, man! You wouldn’t have gotten laid anyway." He was absolutely right. She toyed with me, leading me along like a little dog. Only not a dog that she liked and adored, but a dog that she was taking to the vet to be euthanized or set on fire and then kicked a lot. That bitch. I walked back through the crowd towards where I last saw Robin, determined to let her know that what she did was wrong and cruel. When I reached her she was chatting with Beau and this kid Robert, who was pretty fat, but not so fat that girls wouldn’t talk to him or anything. Anyway, I grabbed Robert’s doughy arm and pushed him aside. Debating whether or not I should actually say something, I sat there for a moment, collecting my thoughts and thinking of a real zinger. She and Beau both just stared at me with looks of confusion. Then something just snapped in my head. I balled up my fist and threw the hardest punch I possibly could straight into Robin’s nose. The impact made a loud smacking sound and she immediately fell back into the wall. When her head collided with the flower print wallpaper(very tasteful I might add), the loud thud made all of the partygoers turn their heads in our direction. Her sweet, innocent, unconscious body slid down the wall slowly.

Now I was pretty pumped at that point, so the details from here on out may be a little sketchy or just plain made up. I could’ve sworn I heard one of those record scratching sounds and all of a sudden the music stopped. People were no longer slightly flailing their arms and swaying back and forth. They were still. Their eyes all fixed on me, burning a thousand holes into my muscular and toned body. My face was flushed from the adrenaline, my heart was crashing against my sternum, I couldn’t focus on anything. It all seemed surreal. Did I really just punch Robin in the face? I quickly snapped myself out of it. I swallowed nervously and looked down at Robin. Blood was slowly flowing out of her nose and down her cheek. She was quietly moaning in pain. Her eyes looked as if they couldn’t quite focus on anything. She tried to lift her head off of the ground and say something but then just passed out again. Beau stood there with a livid and bewildered expression on his face. He slowly lifted his open hand to his forehead and dropped it down in a salute. He said, "My Olive Garden and swanky leather shoes cannot compete with your complete disregard of social and moral ethics. Well played old chap, well played indeed." He turned away and walked wistfully up the stairs out of the basement with his head hanging towards the ground, like a defeated soldier in the Civil War. He hadn’t just lost thousands upon thousands of his neighbors and friends for nothing, and he also wouldn’t be tormented by the screams of dying men in his dreams or curl into a ball and start crying every time he heard a crashing noise... But he did hang his head in a very similar way... or so I’m told.

I turned back around to face the crowd and wiped the sweat beads that had formed on my forehead off with my sleeve. I cleared my throat and squeaked out, "You guys should try those fucking cookies over there." A few seconds of the same eerie silence passed. Then in unison everyone tilted their head back and started laughing heartily. I started chuckling along as well as I realized the absurdity of what had just happened. "Wow, what a night, eh?" I thought. Through the laughter I mentioned that we should probably call for an ambulance or something. Robert then reminded me that there was plenty of party left! I covered Robin with my jacket and put a few chairs around her, guarding her so nobody would step on her or anything, and went back to mingling.

CONT. PART ZWEI, 'THE AFTERMATH'....

cranked out at 2:24 PM | |

 
template © elementopia 2003
Chicken and/or Waffles
 
Be Objective
Be Qualitative
Be Mindless
Be Heartless
Be Confused
Be Aware
 
Gawker
The Lounge
Appellate Blog