Ah, the shit I say when I have a drink in me.
We are back at the high school reunion again.
I might need to watch the Shawshank Redemption to get some tips on how to get out of this mental prison.
I got a few comments here and there, along with a few emails, either praising/chastising/asking for clarification of some silly shit I said/pulled/alluded to.
I was talking with a group of guys, locker room talk, nothing special, when an exceptionally leggy lovely came up and joined us.
Somehow, within the next 30 seconds, I mentioned how long her legs were and how I would like to wear them like a scarf. (Complete with hand gestures showing the “thrown over my shoulder” scarf move.)
Luckily, she laughed it off.
Which is good, because you can get tasered and/or maced for that shit.
The guys laughed, but that was not my worry.
I find it easy to offend people, call it a gift.
But I castigate myself for hurting feelings when I don’t intend to.
And then I ran into her.
One of the earlier Reunion posts was titled “Remember me, you hated me in high school.”
It was titled for my first thought when I saw her for the first time in 25 years.
I cannot stand that rotten type of phony personality that acts really happy to see someone they have shit all over.
And she did.
A girl that I really liked, really didn’t know that well, that I had just started dating when I had just arrived at high school was a friend of hers.
And she hated me for unknown reason.
My girlfriend even asked me if I knew why she didn’t like me.
In the end, she told my girlfriend that I had hit on her.
Not that I wasn’t capable of such things at that time in my life, I was, but I hadn’t hit on her at all.
So to have her waltz up and turn on the sugary sweet was a bit much.
“Will! OMG! So NICE to see you!”
It was like meeting a 12 year old, same delivery.
Two can play this game.
“Hey #####, been a long time. You look GREAT!”
She didn’t. But I am under no obligation to be serious with this bitch.
“Thanks, I have been working out for tonight.”
I know my cue for this one.
“Really? You look INCREDIBLE!”
If you go for saggy d-cups and eye bags.
“Thank you. What have you been up to?”
When she stayed on script and kept things friendly, I really am almost obligated to be nice.
Except that, I don’t play that way.
“Doing ok. I got off the drugs in prison, and then I found the Lord. I have a great job working part time at McDonalds. Married, my wife gets out on parole next month.”
And if you think that line is easy to do with a straight face, don’t kid yourself.
I could see the wheels turning in her head.
The easiest thing to spy was the satisfaction she had for my supposed misfortunes.
You could see that in her eyes. “I KNEW IT!”
Time to break her bubble.
“I’m just kidding. I’m a director for a local company, live and work by the beach, two kids, both grown. How about YOU?”
It would have been cool if her head actually spun around physically to match the mental flip flop.
“Oh, um, I’m married. My husband is over-”
We both looked as she trailed off.
There was only 2 people at the table she was pointing at.
A brown haired woman and the tall guy standing next to her.
With his hand on her ass.
I think I just came a little bit.
Some karmic moments are stunning in review.
Time to go.
“Alright, well, good luck with THAT.”
And I walked off.
It was an awesome night.
Part 4 of 5
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