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So are you just happy to see me or is that pizza on your blouse?
Somebody please stick a screwdriver in my ear. Phillips head-- standard-- star-- it doesn't matter... Ah hell go ahead and get another one a jab one in each ear! While you're at it, how 'bout drilling a half inch hole into my right temple too!
I just got back from one of those "Performing Arts" shows that RZ's school put on and frankly it was just more excitement than I can stand. Don't get me wrong, the kids did a fine job. It's just I wasn't much in the mood to sit through 112 minutes of band (oooommpah, pah, pah ooomph), chorus (teenagers and opera... ooooooo ain't we got fun!), and interpretive dance (imagine: "Up With People" amped up on crank... On second thought, it could have been hormones. Wonder?).
Of course RZ sparkled, as she always does. Unfortunately, her group was first up, so when she was finished I had another 109 minutes of "pure culture" to sit (in sheer amazement) through. I pondered excusing myself to go to the "restroom", then instead sneaking out to the alley behind the theatre to freebase something really high in carbs, or take my life. It didn't seem to matter which at the time.
Leslie said "Sit! Stay! Good boy." whenever she felt me trying to peel away.
I realize that unless somebody smarter than me starts a fire, or a riot... I'm stuck. So with over an hour and a half to kill, I do what everyone else was doing-- I blog. Not in the physical sense of course, but I try and work out the details of a post... This post.
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"Yeah. But I can't drive... I'm not old enough."
I tell her. Most of my friends would have had their ass kicked rather than admit that. Especially to her. She's a fox! She's AWESOME! H.O.T. and she just asked me out. Let me say that again-- SHE ASKED ME OUT!
" 's ok. Saturday night-- I'll pick you up. Here's my number."
She says as she scrawls her telephone number on a piece of notebook paper. Oh my Gah-- Shit, she drew a heart around it. A heart. A HEART!!! It's just a heart, no big whup, right? That's probably just her thing, ya know-- like how she signs her name or something. Look at it though, it's a heart, with a curlie-q! GAH she is so HOT! Awesome HOT! What will our kids look like?!? But wait, maybe I'm too young to be tied down.
All of this reels through my brain as a take her number.
"I'll call you. TONIGHT!!!"
Oh great! Way to go Mr. Smooth. Why don't you just hold up your hand with your fingers spread apart and say 'Nanoo-Nanoo'-- dumbass. Jesus I couldn't look like a bigger dickhead if I tried. I'm like standing here just about to squirt on her leg warmers, maybe I should just mount her leg, and start humpin'-- like a damn dog and get it over with. Just be cool... Just be cool.
Just as before, all of this reels through my head in a split second.
"um, I mean, it's ok to call tonight? It'n it?"
I must've played "Just What I Needed" by The Cars 137 times over the next couple of days. The line that goes, "'Cause when you're standing oh so near, I kinda lose my mind." just seemed so right on. Given the magnitude of what had happened... what was going to happen on Saturday night, "The Cars" spoke to me. "Supertramp" just duhn't do it for me anymore. I'm moving past them. I'm growing up.
It's Saturday. 6:45pm. She'll be here in fifteen. God I'm nervous.
Hair's looking right. Wearing my good jeans, they're not Jordache, but they'll do. Got my blue button down on. I thought about wearing the yellow one, but decided against it-- to much of a statement, if you know what I mean. My Reeboks are clean. I'm ready for anything, and I DO mean ANYTHING!
6:55pm. Dang. Maybe I put on too much Polo? Mom, what you think? Do I smell too much? What's the difference between cologne and aftershave? Can you still use it even if you don't shave? Can I have some money? Th'nks dad.
Look! she's here.... In a Celica! She has her own car. A Celica. Yeah, that's the car I'd drive if I could drive. A Celica.
"Hey."
She says as I get into the car.
"Hey."
I answer back.
"Let's go to Godfather's, Ok?"
She asks.
Can you believe this. One of the top-est ten chicks in the whole g-dang school wants to go to Godfather's with me. Like on a date and everything! Shit I hope Ricky is there. That sum'bitch'll never believe me if he doesn't see me and Sheryl walking in together. Oh God please let'm see us.
"Um, yeah, I like Godfather's."
We walk in past the "crowd". I do that bump up, nod, acknowledgement thing with my head to my friends-- cause I'm cool now. No need to speak to them--- cause I'm cool now. Just acknowledge.
We find our table, then get our pizza. As we're eating our pizza, I notice other people looking at us. Yeah that's right, it's me and her... Her and me. We almost an US, almost.
"You wanna go to Glen Echo?"
She asks.
"What's Glen Echo?"
"It's out at the lake. We can go parking. You wanna go parking?"
"Uh huh."
I say in a spellbound sort of way.
Uh huh? Christ, I've been waiting on this my whole life and all I can say is "uh huh". Say something smart, make her want it, make her laugh, say anything, just don't leave it at "uh huh". "Yeah. Uh huh" Oh way to go there Fonzie. The foxiest chick ever just asked you to go "do the hootus" with her, and all you can do is grunt like you're from the "Land of the Lost". I am such a loser... How did I ever make it out of the womb.
She's driving. I'm riding. We're about to go parking. It's dark. I can make out her face from the blue glow of the dashboard. She is every bit of a nine. Pretty close to a 10. I hope I don't get there to quick... Just think about Ms. Weaver in Geography if that's about to happen.
"Come on back."
She calls from the back seat.
0 to 30 minutes... First base.
45 minutes... Rounding first, got my eye on second.
She's so hot, she's sweating. Come to think of it I'm sweating too! It's hot as hell in that backseat.
45 minutes to 1 hour... Trying to steal second, but she's playing a good defensive game.
1 hour... oh God, the heat. The pizza. The anxiety. The lips.
"Uh, um, hang... hold... just, just a sec..."
I'm trying to get her attention. While I try to get her attention, at that very moment, the pizza is making it's way up from my stomach. Yup, I'm about to wretch the entire contents of my digestive track all over the backseat of that Celica, all over myself and all over the prettiest, hottest, most awesome girl in the whole school. I turn my head away from her at just the right moment as I launch-vomit onto the glass of the back side window.
A minute or so later as I'm mopping up, I hear "...it's not the perfume that you wear, it's not the ribbons in your hair... I guess you're just what I needed..." By The Cars playing on the cassette.
I am officially no longer cool.
4/27/2004 01:06:39 AM
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