the good stuff

As we’ve already established on numerous occasions – I was a big time loser. Still am, but at least I accept myself as I am now. I hide from no one.

This past weekend April & I were out & about in the Fort Wayne local music scene. Randomly, a chick walked past our table. Not that either April or I spend our time looking at chicks, but we do both happen to have this odd thing about attention to detail. Stupid details even. Her tag was sticking up. It’s a pet peeve of mine. I didn’t know this about April, but apparently it’s one of hers as well.

Normally I’m a do-gooder that would just say, “hey you, hang on, your tag is sticking up”. This particular chick had her own nose so far in the air in her “holier-than-though” airs that I felt a lil relieved to know she wasn’t SOOOO perfect. I let her continue by without saying a word to her. April turns to me saying, “I wanted to fix her tag …” before she could finish I was giggling to myself. We had saw the same thing, and thought the same thing. In essence, made the same judgment.

The woman was oblivious to our laughter. It reminded me of a lil gag I used to pull in high school. Throughout my freshman year I became more & more social; growing out of my protective shell & actually experiencing life. By my sophomore year I had concocted THE FRIEND TEST.

I’m a fruit eater. Fresh fruit, preferably, which always comes with stickers. Chiquita stickers J I had a silly habit of peeling the sticker & placing it on the back of my shirt, as a lil prank on myself. If someone happened by & I saw them laughing at me, then I knew that person would never be friend quality. The people who told me about it or offered to remove it for me, those people were friend quality. I continued this game off & on throughout the years. It’s stupid, I know, but in high school you really need all the free entertainment you can get, right?

Welcome to my psyche.

Somewhere around junior year, my friend Pam & I were at a basketball game. JV girls were playing & Pamy & I were waiting for our Varsity team to get the signal that it was time to change into our uniforms. It was standard for the Varsity team to be pressed & dressed during the JV game and vice versa. So here we sit, wearing khakis & our embroidered CN Varsity basketball shirts.

Pam wasn’t in a very good mood that day. While at that time, I probably knew exactly what was causing her foul mood; I have since forgotten that useless piece of information. What I do recall is this: my best friend was sad. It was a sadness I couldn’t break through by smiling, laughing, joking or any other means. I was at my wit’s end. As my mind churned, I absently chewed on a piece of licorice.

I sometimes, well, usually, do things without actually letting the thought process run its full course. You know, leap before looking… I don’t do so well on that end of the thinking spectrum. Don’t even ask me how this next move ever entertained itself as an idea in my head. I will never have an answer for that!

I pulled the chewed up garbled mess of licorice out of my mouth & laid it on her leg. Her clean, pressed, khakis. Straight from my mouth, slobbery drool & all. I need to ride the short bus.

It was a flurry of reactions as she went from grossed out (who wouldn’t be), to pissed about what her mom would say about the stain on her pants (yeah, I could see that one too), and finally to just sheer laughter. She looked at me and told me that’s why she liked being friends with me. I was unconventional. I knew how to cheer her up at any cost. Yeah, I like being a dork. It’s so much easier than actually worrying about what other ppl think of you.

No worries though. That was an extreme situation. I normally keep my chewed up food in my mouth.

But don’t tempt me.