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anna

I was born a rambling man

by anna at 11:02 AM on November 26, 2003

A funny thing happened to me on the way to my computer. Actually, several funny things happened. Allow me to elaborate.

I had a girlfriend in the 6th grade named Cindy. I wrote our names in wet concrete, where they remain etched to this day; just as the memories I’m about to impart are in my mind. I also had a best friend named Paul who was quite the lady’s man even at that tender age. Three years later he was sleeping over at my house. Late at night a knock came at the door (I had two bedrooms, one of which opened to the outdoors.) Imagine our surprise to find Cindy and her friend Dana, drunk and giggling. They came in from the cold and it soon became apparent that Cindy had designs on Paul. They retired to bedroom #2.

Much moaning emanated from back there. I naturally assumed that I was expected to pair off with Dana. Wrong. She informed me that she too wanted to lose her virginity to Paul, who was in Muslim heaven. Thus deflowered, Cindy came out looking all disheveled and Dana took her place. It’s hard to imagine a more awkward moment than sitting there in silence with my grade school girlfriend as those same sounds wafted through the paper-thin walls. “So how was it,” I muttered at last. She just smiled.

Roger paid a visit to Todd, another ladies man of some local renown. The deal at Todd’s house was you had to go around back and knock on his bedroom window. He had no phone so you couldn’t call ahead. Roger follows the protocol. Imagine his surprise to peer through the window at Todd splayed across his waterbed with Bob kneeling behind him. Now Bob is twice the size of Todd so it looks pretty comical to watch them boo-foo. Eventually Roger raps on the window and amazingly Todd lets him in. After their transaction was completed, Roger goes, “You know I saw what you two were doing.” Todd vehemently denies it and Roger is like, dude I saw it with my own two eyes. Bob balls up his fist and warns Roger that he’d better not tell anyone about this. So of course the first thing he does is come over to my house and tell me all about in vivid detail.

In high school biology class, Roger, Billy and I were slouched at the lab table in the back of the classroom. We were all high as dental patients. The teacher placed a small rodent skull on the table and instructed us to draw detailed sketches of it. None of us obliged. After a while Billy raised his fist and pulverized the skull. It shattered into several sharp shards, one of which cut his hand. Blood was gushing from the wound. The teacher comes back and says, “Billy, would you mind telling us what just happened here?” Deadpan, Billy says, “I don’t know. I was just looking at the damn thing and it broke.” Blood trickled onto the floor. Much laughter erupted. We never saw Billy again.

Roger’s dad hired me to work on his paint crew. Part of my job was to secure the ladders to the truck. One day I failed to do so. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen how commuters react when a 30 foot extension ladder comes careening onto a six lane highway. And it was a bitch to retrieve it.

Riding back from Tijuana late one night, I got pulled over by the San Diego police. A girl was asleep on my lap. The siren woke her up so her head rose above the seat level just as the officer approached the rental car. He peers at her sleepy ass and says, “I didn’t see her. I guess that explains why you were weaving.” Now I am 3000 miles from home and in no mood to tangle with the police. She gets all indignant and shoots back, “What are you implying?” He laughs and replies, “Well, ma-am, you head was buried in his lap. He was weaving all over the road. What else would I think?” She launches into this long tirade, the gist of which was that not only was he gravely mistaken, but she has never given head in her life. She considers it demeaning. She was telling the truth. He writes me a ticket for “lane-straddling.”

Months later my company asked for a copy of my driving record. I obtain one and lo and behold, there’s the California ticket. Only it says I was charged with “driving on the sidewalk.” Since I had a company car, that obviously wouldn’t do. I contacted the DMV and insisted that they correct the error. They did, but in the process wiped out two solid pages of serious infractions. I got to keep my company car, which later caught on fire due to lack of oil. I totaled the replacement on the way back from dealership. The company was not amused.

So now you know.

comments (14)

Dude!

Sweet!

by Linz at November 26, 2003 1:11 PM


Well, cool. I have a feeling you'd have liked this Paul in his younger incarnation. He was slim but sinewy and he had these deep dimples. But he looked me up in later years and he didn't age well. It's sort of like child stars who grow up to be ugly ducklings.

by anna at November 26, 2003 1:56 PM


That's priceless Anna. That sucks that you didn't get to deflower one of the virgins. Your boy should've, at least, thrown you seconds.

By the way HAPPY THANKSGIVINGS DAY EVE you guys.

by Ezy at November 26, 2003 2:09 PM


Yeah happy Busiest Travel Day of the Year and Thanksgiving too, y'all. Oh and Ezy, he did hint at that possibility afterwards but the gals passed out.

by anna at November 26, 2003 2:55 PM


Young girls and alcohol. Those were the days.

Yea Anna, I'm off to fight the traffic in a few of hours. I want to wait until it's the peak of rush hour. I love sitting in traffic, moving an inch an hour. Wheeeeee!!!

by Ezy at November 26, 2003 3:03 PM


you guys are all talk.

hang the fuck out already.

also, your buddy roger is lucky he didn't receive a rogering, just to keep quiet about. he probably wouldn't talk about the nefarious goings on, if he had been made a part of it all.

the story about the two virgins is precious. i can't help but think that if it had happened to me, it would have shaped my relationships with women, from that point forward.

aaand, props for writing "boo-foo". priceless.

may everyone split a gut tomorrow on their turkey, tofurkey, giblets, potatoes, pies, or stomach surgeries and what have you.

by lajo at November 26, 2003 3:42 PM


Agreed, no more talk about that. We shall wine and dine next weekend, no. Sometimes I wonder if that is really what happened. Todd is still a friend of mine, he isn't gay and he still denies Roger's tale. Problem is, Roger's honest to a fault.

by anna at November 26, 2003 3:56 PM


Doesn't sound like Todd is into denying any tales (tails).

I'll have to check with the boss but next weekend sounds good to me.

Lajo, we hung out one time and I can't remember much at all. Vino flowed freely. I'm sure we had thrilling conversations but I can't remember one to save my ass.

by Ezy at November 26, 2003 4:06 PM


We talked about the usual things, drugs sex and rock n roll. My wife and I told the story about her experience being stone cold sober in the Grateful Dead cool-down room. The gals hit it off sitting on the kitchen floor with pit bulls and wine. Ezy and Amy 2 read all about his encounter with Amy 1 the satanist. After that I don't remember either.

by anna at November 27, 2003 8:44 AM


That Grateful Dead one must be a heck of a story. Tell us sometime, Anna!

by jean at November 27, 2003 6:12 PM


My AA buddies invited me to the Grateful Dead's last DC appearance. Without their wives, there were partying hardy as usual. My wife came along but she was suffering from a kidney ailment that precluded any drinking. She did take some Vicodin for the intense pain. But it got so bad she wanted to lay down. She found herself in the cool-down room surrounded by a bunch of hippies on bad trips. The orderlies assumed she too was tripping and kept telling her to roll with it, stay calm etc etc. Finally she snapped, "Look I'm not like you assholes. The only drug I'm on is Vicodin. So leave me the fuck alone." Meanwhile these hippy chicks were trying to seduce the orderly right in front of my wife, with some degree of success.

by anna at November 28, 2003 11:28 AM


My AA buddies invited me to the Grateful Dead's last DC appearance. Without their wives, there were partying hardy as usual. My wife came along but she was suffering from a kidney ailment that precluded any drinking. She did take some Vicodin for the intense pain. But it got so bad she wanted to lay down. She found herself in the cool-down room surrounded by a bunch of hippies on bad trips. The orderlies assumed she too was tripping and kept telling her to roll with it, stay calm etc etc. Finally she snapped, "Look I'm not like you assholes. The only drug I'm on is Vicodin. So leave me the fuck alone." Meanwhile these hippy chicks were trying to seduce the orderly right in front of my wife, with some degree of success.

by anna at November 28, 2003 11:29 AM


Hmmm... your AA buddies were "partying hardy"? You mean they were breaking the rules and drinking? Ohhh boy :) That's a classic line your wife gave. Now that is good times. The story does not disappoint.

by jean at November 29, 2003 4:22 AM


That's not all they were doing. It was a Grateful Dead concert. Use your imagination.

When the cat's away, the mice will play.

by anna at November 29, 2003 8:03 AM



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