Blog: This Is Who You're Friends With

(originally written 12/22/08)

I started a new job today, number 35, for those keeping count. (An exaggeration, yes, but not as great of one as you think.)

 

During a break, I found myself trapped with what has to be the most boring human ever born. She almost put me in a coma. This chick could, if she so chose, market herself as a natural insomnia cure.

 

Because her voice is capable of rendering anyone unconscious.

 

During this traumatic conversation—I blocked out most of it but for some reason the topic of grass is lingering in my mind—my life flashed before my eyes. (Don't laugh: an outcome of death by boredom really did exist today.)

 

It was just like in the movies—many memorable events from my life flew by, like:

 

  • accidentally going inside the women's bathroom at a, um, "gentleman's" club,

  • quitting a job to go play basketball

  • exposing myself in front of my friends while drunk (although I have no memory, they all swear to it)

  • walking home two miles on Interstate 80 because my friend was taking too long to drive me there,

  • ordering not one, but two entrees from TGI Friday's—and eating them BOTH

 

  • quitting another job by jumping out of a truck, ducking through a county building in my haste to escape, and having my pants fall down near the metal detector,

  • yelling (fake) death threats daily at two girls from my school,

  • in front of one of my COLLEGE classrooms, crawling up and down a hallway barking like a dog to fulfill a $10 bet,

  • checking an old man's pulse in a restaurant, and indicating to friends he had none (I know now how f---ed up that was),

  • not showing up to one of my best friend's weddings because I was angry for being too fat for the pants I planned to wear,

 

  • while playing baseball, in the middle of an at-bat, dropping the bat and running after a squirrel eventually chasing it up a tree,

  • jizzing in my pants at the mere sight of Joyce DeWitt (Janet from Three's Company)

  • showing up to my first driver's test without a car because I didn't know you had to provide your own,

  • killing a spider on my wall by charging at the wall full speed and crushing it with my bare stomach,

  • nearly getting a girl killed when me and my friends tried to direct a guy to a party we could easily hear, but not access. He found it on his own before we did—and when we showed up he was being arrested. Turns out the guy had major artillery in his trunk and was planning to use it on his ex,

 

  • cooking up a massive scheme to beat up a guy who was getting a little too close to a girl I liked. I recruited everyone I knew, even though he was gay and I could have easily beaten him up on my own. We set a date, assigned roles, a "luring" scheme, everything. It was all pretty organized and official. But when the day came, rather than pummel this guy, we decided to go to McDonald's instead...

  • when a friend of mine browned his shorts and hid them under my bed, where they were not discovered until he left the next day. Ever the opportunist even at age nine, I used this to my advantage a few weeks later when we teamed to put a rock down a new student's throat. I pinned all the blame on him and demanded his silence about my role unless he wanted everyone to know about his poo incident. It worked. (I didn't say I was proud of any of this.) Navinder, if you somehow read this, my bad...I have no excuse other than being a royal ass at that age),

 

  • the time my buds ordered a pizza while I was passed out drunk,  and pulled my pants and undies down as I laid unconscious on the floor for the delivery guy to see. (If he had any questions, he kept them to himself.)

  • heaving in the back of my 2nd-grade classroom, but choosing not to tell anyone for fear of having to clean it up,

  • heaving in the middle of driving my bus...in the middle of the street...with a rider on board.

  • eating a special brownie without knowing it was special, and heaving for hours. In between heaves I foresaw my own fatal heart attack and to this day will not eat fried chicken—my last meal before the effects of the brownie kicked in,

  • telling some random chick to f--- me, without knowing what it meant at the time. Her boyfriend lit up my jaw pretty good...

 

  • punching a student in the face for continuing to write on my shirt after warning him to stop...in the middle of a lesson, 

  • having a male, 50-something neighbor I barely knew show up at my door in a towel asking to use our shower, and 

  • while standing in line at a Sizzler, planting a long, juicy kiss upon my girl's lips, then announcing "You're the BEST sister EVER!" louder than what was necessary.

 

It's been quite a life, and it would have sucked to have it end right there in a driveway because this walking sedative could not STFU. 
Luckily, my knight in shining armor (a.k.a. some dude) rode in and distracted her long enough for me to snap out of my trance before my body completely shut down.

 

There are too many big events planned for 2009 to succumb to boredom now. Two camping trips, at least one Vegas bash, at least one wedding, at least one big ass surprise party, a snowboarding trip—can't risk it all just to be polite. 

 

Next time she emerges, she's gettin' ran from. Period.