(yesterday was my brother's birthday so I was busy with all that celebratin' nonsense)
Back to our regularly scheduled wtf-ness.
I'm 18. My friend is 19. She is going to meet this guy, but she wasn't a big dater, and was nervous, blah blah, and asked me to come along. Let me clarify that as much as I like being the center of the universe, I wasn't down with being the third wheel. The driver of the limo. It's awkward, unnatural and I had my own boys to chase. Not that I recommend boy chasing, but hey, it's a rite of passage.
I finally agree, and then as if to sweeten the deal she says, "He's bringing a friend." This could be great, if he's a super hot tall surfer with rockin' skater shoes and dimples. Shallow isn't only for swimming pools. Or this could be bad, if he is shorter than me, with big zits and likes Star Trek. And Dilbert.
We show up at the local miniature golf place. And there is her dude, looking all right, her eyes are shooting hearts out, she's off and running. Leaving me with Juan.
Juan had a very thick accent, despite being from Orange County. Supposedly. The whole "Chu like my hair? Chu like me?" kind of lead me to believe otherwise. He talked about racing, pig racing, his mom, his aunt, his dog, and how he needed a job. And a car. Maybe I could drive up to the OC and see him some time. Errrr yeah. I spent the next hour wondering why I didn't have hair to wash instead of playing putt putt.
It's time to leave, and I did about 90 back flips. Until in the car,she BEGS me to go to the beach with her, so she could hangout with her dude some more. Was she for real? I had just pretty much given her the gift equivalent to giving a kidney, in my opinion, and now she wants me to spend more time? With him? I'd rather stab myself in the ear drum. With a chopstick.
Because I am a saint, and I needed a big fat deposit in my karma bank, I went. We arrive at the beach, and Juan is singing some Mexican polka song. At the top of his lungs. She and her dude walk off. And leave me with Nacho Libre. He tells me all about how he only gets drunk on the weekends, and if I washis girlfriend,he knows of some cute things he would buy me from Wal Mart. Ick. He tries to hold my hand. Telling me that he once proposed to a girl on the beach. She said No, but he's sure it was because he was too much of a man for her, complete with "if you know what I mean."
I do not know what you mean, I have no intention of knowing what you mean, and I am stringing my friend up by the hair of her arms when she returns and shipping her to Russia. That was my only concern.
I spotted a playground and I was like sweet, I'll just swing until she comes back. And then the jokes started,the really really lame jokes. Like chickens crossing roads jokes. And my head hurt. And I began to wonder why I hadn't gone away to exchange school in Sweden. Or if they needed help in the McDonald's across the way. Maybe they needed the bathrooms plunged. I could plunge bathrooms. Right then, I could do anything else but what I was doing. I start walking to find my friend. He then tried to kiss me. But his B.O. got to me first. And knocked me off my feet. It was HORRID.
I got away, and kept walking. I am now regretting that I am a girl, or that I have any friends, why oh why couldn't I have been born in a forest. Raised by fairies. Been called Tinkerbell. I think he was getting my drift that I was over this, so he then says "Watch this", and unzips his fly and takes a wizz. Right next to me. It splattered, and I was about ten seconds from punching him in his junk. And I am not a junk puncher. But I would have, because the situation almost warranted it. I wished I had mace. Or at least bug repellent.
He was saved by the bell because looky, here comes my "friend."
That was that. I don't think she ever asked me to take one for the team again. Karma bank was full, and I needed to bleach my skin.