Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Terrence, Chapter 7

Thanks to all who read, and a double-thanks to the 6 people who commented. It takes a long freaking time to write these episodes, so it's more motivating to write when people show their appreciation for it.

A lot of you have asked which character is me, which my wife has pointed out as "Chris." I will agree that Chris has my personality, but not entirely. He's also a mixture of my Enclave roommates (you know who you are), except Radiohead, who deserves his own blog post. But, yes, Chris is mostly me in this fictional blast from the past.

Terrence is the "Michael Scott" of the story, not a very realistic character, although he has traits of a lot of the more socially inept Zoobies I met at BYU.

GL Steve is a mixture of Tyler "Five-head" and Spencer. I won't list last names as they probably Google themselves, but if you know them, you already know that.

P Steve is like Steve from the BYU 73rd ward, whose last name escapes me. Anyway, everybody loved Steve, but all the girls saw him as "just a friend". I also see him as Landry from Friday Night Lights.

The Franks are too vague to be anybody.

The King is extremely fictional. But he's like that guy in the ward who's probably way too old to be there, but still, he knows everything about dating even though he's not married.

Anita is a mixture of a couple of girls named Amy from the Enclave.

Annie is a mixture of a bunch of girls I knew at BYU.

Also, Heidi, Anita is NOTHING like Cardboard Lindsey, who also deserves her own blog post. Cardboard has yet to make an appearance in any form, but what we'd be looking for is a completely boring but somewhat pretty girl, intent on staying in Provo until betrothal, who also refuses to be dumped. Although there's a little bit of that in Anita in this episode, not to give anything away.

Chapter 6 (has the links to Chapters 1-5)

Okay, let's get to the story. I hope you have the next 30 minutes free...

Chapter 7

The Set-up

Tuesday, September 30, 2003

7:49 PM

It'd been a few days since Annie dumped Terrence, and he was still moping around the apartment, eating so many Cheetos there wasn't a doorknob in the place that didn't taste like cheese flavoring. My clothes even had an orange glow to them. It was pathetic, disgusting, and, worst of all, gaseous. We'd all tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen to anybody not named "Annie". We even knocked on the King's door, but all we heard was the rustling of papers and the shuffling of feet.

Me and Personality Steve had had enough. We decided to find T a dream girl so we could all resume BAU (Business As Usual), so we headed down to the library to see what Periodicals had to offer. It was a Thursday night, usually the busiest time at Periodicals, and every table was full of people pretending to study.

Now, I will say this, the Periodicals is not the Meat Market everybody claims it is. It's more like the Meat Show. Nobody ever buys anything, they just like to see what's available. Sure, you'll see the occasional pick-up or exchange of numbers, but for the most part, nothing's going on. I mean, who wants to pick up on somebody in a silent room when everybody within 20 feet can hear your dumb lines? It's a high-risk, low-reward venture.

However, we were desperate, and we didn't know where else to look. We walked straight in, split up, did a lap, and reconvened to discuss what we saw.

"I saw a portly one over by the window. Seemed desperate enough."

"Hmmm, I did notice her, but did you see the flock of dorks in the middle there? They seem right up T's alley. I like our chances at that table."

We agreed, and walked right on over. It's so much easier to have confidence when you're hitting on a girl for somebody else. It also helps if you have a much higher rating than the girl. These girls were 3's, 4's, and 5's, and we figured T was right in that range. There were 4 of them, and they looked like sisters. All of them had their hair pulled up, baggy sweaters, and tapered jeans. They looked like Terrence in girl form.

"Hey," said Steve in a whisper, as all heads within 10 yards lifted from their books to see what all the ado was about. The girls looked at him, curious as to what this red-headed dude with a t-shirt that read "I can't, I'm Mormon" wanted.

"What are you lovely ladies studying tonight?" They welcomed his attention, as I stood behind Steve, practically hiding. I didn't want them to be intimidated by my breathtakingly good looks.

"Oh, just some O-Chem," the alpha dork responded. She was also the tallest, with red-rimmed glasses with a red butterfly barrette to match. The butterfly seemed to scream "Terrence."

"Organizational Chemistry, eh? That happens to be my major," smiled Steve.

"Sure it is," Alpha responded, "since you don't even know what O-Chem stands for."

Steve responded, undaunted, "Of course I do. It stands for Science." They all giggled. "But seriously, ladies, why aren't you on dates tonight? Maybe a group date over in the lab with some handsome RM's?" They giggled again.

The mousy one in the corner replied with a bashful smile, "All the guys around here can't match wits with us."

"That may be true, ladies, but you may have to give some of us a chance to learn from you." They giggled again. If Steve kept up this kind of charm, he would have 4 marriage proposals before the hour was up. And it was 7:58. "But seriously, ladies, I am here on a mission. My roommate sent me. He needs a date for this weekend, and I told him I would set him up. Are any of you opposed to a blind date?"

None of them responded. "Anyone?" Still nothing. "Okay, let me tell you about my roommate. His name is Terrence, he's an RM, from somewhere in the great state of Idaho. He just got dumped by a girl, and he needs a nice girl to show him a good time. What do you say?"

Steve continued to be met with silence. They all just kind of looked at each other, completely surprised at the situation. "Okay, I'll sweeten the deal," negotiated Steve. "It will be a double-date, and one of you lucky ladies can come with me."

Indeed, this sparked their interest. They whispered among themselves and came to a decision. Alpha spoke for the team. "Which one would you like to go with, Steve?" she asked, batting her eyes and showing off her screaming butterfly barrette.

"Oh, you can't make me decide. You're all equally...sweet." Steve paused. "How about this? We'll just meet here at this table on Saturday at 7, and we'll be lucky to go with whoever shows up. That way, if you're not interested in a pity date for my friend and me, you just don't show up. How's that?"

Alpha seemed disappointed that Steve didn't pick her, but pleased enough that she would still probably end up with him anyway, being the ring leader and all. "Okay, that sounds good. We'll surprise you."

We walked away briskly. Steve had a grin on his face. "I can't BELIEVE that worked!"

"You sure are smooth, Steve. So smooth I can't tell where you end and where you begin."

Saturday, October 4

6:38 PM

The hard part wasn't getting a girl to go on a blind date with Terrence, it was getting Terrence to leave the apartment. He hadn't even taken a shower this week, how were we going to get him to go on a date? We knew that our powers were not enough to get him back on track. We needed The King. Every 15 minutes, we'd go and knock on his door, hoping he would come out. We knew The King worked on his own terms, and would emerge when he saw fit. Unfortunately, we got nowhere and had no more options but to ask Terrence to get it together. As his roommate, I was the first choice, so I went into our room. I hadn't even been in there since Wednesday, the stench of BO and Cheeto's were an almost toxic mix. I'd been sleeping on the couch and borrowing the Frank's clothes.

I opened the door and an orange dust cloud escaped immediately. The orange fog was so thick, I felt like I was Indiana Jones wading through a dense, smoky jungle of socks, Cheeto bags, and tissues. Terrence lay on his bed, face down with his nose in the crack between the wall and the bed.

"Terrence? What are you doing?" I had a shirt over my mouth and nose to protect me from the fumes.

"Leave me alone," came the muffled voice from the bed.

"Listen, Terrence, you have to get out of bed and take a shower or something. You can't feel sorry for yourself forever."

No response.

"Hey, we even got a date for you tonight with a beautiful sister in Zion."

Another muffled response: "I know, 7 pm. Meeting at the library."

This baffled me. How did he know? Only P Steve and I knew about it, and I know Steve didn't say anything to him yet. "So, are you going?"

"Yeah."

I paused while I tried to process this. Terrence, who hadn't left the apartment or showered in a week, somehow knew that we set him up with a girl at 7pm tonight. Not only that, he was willing to go! "How do you know about this?"

"The King had a talk with me."

The King? We were trying to get him to talk to T about this all week, but we never even saw him! Evidently, The King moves in mysterious ways. The whole situation baffled me, but it got results. Terrence ended up showering, putting on fresh clothes, and dressing the part. He looked danged spiffy, if you ask me. In fact, he made P Steve look like a total chump. Steve was fine with that.

They took off together shortly before 7, leaving me alone. Now, I must confess that I was feeling pretty irked about the Anita situation. Before we went out, I had no expectations, but then the date went so well, I thought we had a "connection" and we had some sort of a future. Maybe not a full-on relationship future, but at least a couple more dates. So I got my hopes up. However, she had ignored me at Ward Prayer, and I was back to ground zero. Unfortunately, I now had some emotional investment in her, and it wasn't as easy to put her out of my mind. I also made the cardinal mistake of not expanding my teaching pool, so I had no prospects for a Saturday Night date, plus P Steve was already taken, and he was my go-to double dater. So there I was, alone on a Saturday night, and that is about the lowest status symbol in college.

About an hour or two of feeling sorry for myself passed while I was watching some worthless college football game when the doorbell rang. It was Anita, of all people.

"Yes?"

"Hey, I just came by to say hello."

"Steve's not here."

"I wanted to talk to you, doofus."

"Okay, I guess." I opened the door and watched her walk in and plop herself down on my seat. "That's my seat," I said dryly.

"No wonder it's so comfortable! I'm sure this one right next to it is equally comf," she said with a smile, patting the middle cushion.

I sat down opposite her on the love seat, ignoring her instructions.

"Listen, Chris," she began with a serious tone, "I just want to say I'm sorry for ignoring you the other day. I was in a conversation with a guy who knew my best friend from back home, so I was completely engrossed in the conversation."

"It's not a big deal, I barely even remember that night," I lied.

"Well, I just wanted to remind you that I think you're a great guy and I'm wondering when we're going to go out again."

This was unexpected and almost unwelcome--I was enjoying hating her! What am I supposed to do with this? First, she's a jerk. Then she's nice. Then she's a jerk again. Now she's back to being nice! I didn't know if I wanted to play that game. You know what? I'm going to reject her!

"Sorry, that ship has sailed." I couldn't believe the words came out of my mouth, and now I just waited for it to sink in and become real to her. It was only a matter of time before she plopped dead and heart-broken on the floor.

"But seriously, when are we going out?" she said, stone-faced.

Was she not listening? Did I not make it clear enough for her? I'll try again: "I don't know if I want to go out with you if you're just going to ignore me the next day again."

This was obviously new to her. Someone had the gall to not cave to her! But that didn't deter her: "Well, how about if I pay? Would that make you feel better about it? I don't want to let one silly misunderstanding get you down."

Actually, that WOULD make me feel better about it, cause now I don't think she's over here campaigning for more free dinner. It only took her one line to suck me back in again! "Only if we go to IHOP again," I replied, caving.

So that was that. I was going out with Anita, again, and I knew my feelings for her were only going to get stronger and there wasn't anything I felt I could do about it. She stayed at my place for a couple more hours and we had a great conversation. I knew the whole time that she was probably just bored and her date must have fallen through, because there was no way she was not booked on a Saturday night. But I was happy and starting to be smitten. Again.

She left at 11 pm. Terrence and P Steve were still at-large, and I had nobody to discuss this recent development with. So I went on a walk and found myself at Annie's door, hoping to get answers from Anita's visiting teacher.

She answered the door in pink unicorn-patterned pajamas. "Yes? Over here for a booty call?"

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt your unicorn-fantasy-themed slumber party? Have you given each other make overs yet?" She smiled and let me in.

"Are you taking notes? This is called, 'Inviting Someone In'."

"You're a natural. Please show me your ways."

"Okay, that's enough nonsense. Why are you here? I know you need something."

"I need a friend, Annie. Did you ever think of that?"

"I thought you were plenty popular, beating down the ladies with an aluminum bat."

"I'm not as popular as one might think. In fact, I need your advice with some lady issues that you could help me with."

She smiled. "I KNEW you needed something. Speak on."

"Okay, so you're Anita's visiting teacher, right?" Annie winced, and I could tell she did NOT want to discuss Anita for probably the umpteenth time. "Nevermind."

"No, I'm interested. It's just that every boy in this ward somehow thinks I'm the Anita Expert."

This reminded me that Anita was the HGW, and I had no business pursuing her. But I couldn't help myself, I needed to dissect and over analyze the situation. "Well, I took her out last week, as you know." Annie nodded. "And then at Ward Prayer she totally shunned me whilst she was talking to this other dude. So then I thought it was over, and told myself to let it go, which I did. GL Steve took her out last night-"

"GL Steve?"

"Yeah, I have 2 roommates named Steve. One is impossibly good-looking, so we call him Good-Looking Steve. GL Steve for short."

"Oh, well I know a GL Steve, but he's just a really good accountant," she joked. I didn't get it until later, when P Steve explained that GL is "General Ledger" in bean counter speak.

"Really? What a coincidence! Anyway, GL Steve took her out last night, but I didn't hear how that went, as he's been MIA most of today. Well, I was just chilling at home tonight-"

"No dates? You? Were you sick or something?"

"You know, it may seem like I get all sorts of ladies because I'm charming, handsome, and funny, but most girls are intimidated by that, so they keep their distance."

"Or because you stink."

"Well, YOU STINK!" We both smiled and almost had a moment. I remembered why I liked Annie before Terrence messed up that whole thing. "Anyway, Anita came over around 9ish, and she wanted to give it another try. I was like, 'No way, sister, not if you were the last woman on earth!'"

Annie wasn't buying that. "What'd you really say?"

"Sure, what time?"

"You men all just cave in when a pretty face bats her eyes. 'Whatever you say, dear!' Get a spine, man!"

"Hey, now." That's all I had for a comeback. Also, I just wanted to say "Hey, now."

"So what do you need to analyze? It seems fairly evident that she wants a little taste of the myth they call 'Chris'."

"Yes, it does seem fairly evident. That's the problem! Why's she so hot and cold? She even offered to pay for this date, so I don't think she just wants free dinner."

"Maybe her date with GL Steve went so poorly, it made her appreciate you that much more."

"That is a very real possibility. GL Steve is not for everybody. He's more for just looking."

"That he is. That man is the tastiest of eye candy."

I rolled my eyes. "That's enough of THAT. You've got some drool on your chin. What about you? Any new prospects? Or are you going back to Terrence?" I half-jokingly suggested.

"Not funny. Terrence is a great guy. Not for me, though. I don't really get men like you get women. I just have to sit here and look pretty and hope somebody takes pity on poor, old me."

"It's true, you are getting pretty old. 21? Maybe 22? That's like 50 in Provo years. Foot in the grave!" She wasn't amused. "Look, most of the guys in the ward discuss you, so it's only a matter of time before you're back in the game. The real mistake you made was holding T's hand in church."

"I couldn't help it! He had a death-grip. No getting out of that bear-trap."

I stayed at Annie's house until midnight with relationship banter, when one of her more righteous roommates reminded me of the time, and I hoofed it back home, but not before taking a detour past Anita's apartment, hoping she would be looking longingly out the window, dreaming of me. No such luck. Didn't matter, though, I had at least one more chance with Anita!

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR A SECOND DATE, AND WHAT HAPPENED WITH T AND P STEVE? LOTS OF CLIFFHANGERS HERE...

Monday, May 18, 2009

The Return of Terrence!

Okay, it's obviously been a while since Terrence last made an appearance, so I want to refresh everybody's minds as to who is who and what's going on. If you really want to, you can start over, but I won't blame you if you don't:

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5

For those of you, okay, all of you, who didn't reread those chapters:

Dudes

Terrence - Title character, kind of a socially clumsy goon, who is dating the otherwise-sensible Annie, whom he locked down with the FCP approach. She never knew what hit her. Roommate of Chris.
Chris - Narrator, interested in HGW (Hottest Girl in the Ward), also known as Anita. Also, slightly interested in Annie, although she's off-limits with the whole Terrence thing.
One of the Steves - Best looking roommate of Terrence's apartment, kind of a womanizer. Also, the only one with a car.
Others in the apartment: Another Steve (ugly, good personality), 2 guys named Frank, and The King, who is this mysterious fellow who only appears at crucial points to dispense sage advice.

Chicks
Annie - Terrence's current "GF", who had pretty succumbed to Terrence's in-your-face approach.
Anita - HGW, see above. Kind of a raunch in public, secretly nice in private.
Annette - In love with Terrence, and constantly brings him food. Terrence isn't interested.
Melba - Annette's generously-portioned friend, who is obsessed with Chris, no matter how much of a jerk he is to her.

If this was a teen drama on the CW, this part would be prefaced by "Previously on Terrence" and then show scenes involving all the relevant characters to this week's episode. In fact, let's just do that...

Previously on Terrence:

Chris went on a date with Anita...

Chris: So why did you agree to go with me?
Anita:
Everybody deserves at least one chance. Even a schmuck like you. (smiles)

Things moved forward with Terrence and Annie...

(Scene showing Terrence smooching Annie with Chris watching in the bushes)

But now Annie's not so sure...

Annie: When I kissed him, I didn't have any awesome feelings of skyrockets in flight or shooting stars or anything like that.
Chris:
Terrence is new to this whole kissing thing. Give him time.

(Cue Terrence theme music, showing a montage of all the main characters doing Zoobie-esque things)

Chapter 6

The Breakup

Saturday, September 27, 2003

2:37 AM

It was another late night of watching dumb movies and Seinfeld reruns on the tube. All 5 of us (me, the Steves, and the Franks) were piled in the living room, bags of chips and microwave popcorn laying next to us, half-eaten and getting staler by the second. We had done our usual Friday night routine: Go to the pretentious Belmont party at 11 pm, stand in the corner and pretend like we're cool, nod our head at people we barely know, and try to make eye contact with the hair-school chicks that are already buried in a room of dudes. We never, ever, had success at those parties. And every week we left saying "I hate those parties". Of course, we were back the next Friday.

The post-party conversation at our apartment was equally pointless. We all made fun of good-lookin' Steve for ignoring us while he tried to make a move on some blonde whose hair was so straight you could use it for a level. Then we ripped on Personality Steve for getting rejected by 5 or so girls. Then we ripped on me for not even trying, but I made my usual excuses: "I wasn't feeling it" or "Nobody there was my type". The Franks just laughed.

That's when Terrence walked in. He kept his head down and walked straight back to his room. He moved so quickly, we barely noticed that his eyes were red and swollen. The door slammed behind him, and we all gave each other the excited "Oh yeah, there's gonna be drama" look, and Steve nodded for me to go back to our room and get The Scoop. Return and report.

I tapped on the door and cracked it open, like a dad coming to console his full-of-teen-angst daughter. "Terrence? Can I come in?" Of course, if I didn't care about getting The Scoop, I would've just barged in, as per usual.

"Of course, it's your room, too," he responded with a quiver in his voice.

I put on my best compassionate face and concerned voice. "Terrence, is everything okay? You don't sound like yourself." I haven't sounded this concerned since my mission when I used and abused the Commitment Pattern to some serious avail.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

I sat down on his bed, next to him. He still had his head down, staring at his shoes. I patted his knee three times, then closed it with a gentle, loving squeeze, moving my hand from his knee to his shoulder. "Terrence, when you hurt, I hurt. Let's just get this out in the open." I paused and waited for him to feel my brotherly love. The room was chock full of Trust.

Terrence looked up at me with his big blue eyes, all bloodshot and wet. Tears started streaming down his cheeks and he began quiverring uncontrollably, like an elephant chuckling at a good rhino joke. His huge bear mitts grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into his bosom, burying my face in his left pectoral. His huge arms wrapped around me and squeezed me tight. I was now Terrence's personal Teddy Bear.

He started bawling. He just cried and cried. For like 10 minutes. That's a long time for a man-hug, let me tell you. No words, just sobbing and gasping for air.

He finally released his vice-grip, and I got my own fresh breath of air. My hair was soaked with his tears and my face red with suffocation. I still had no idea what happened, but I was willing to risk another 10-minute hug for The Scoop: "Now it's time to talk, T. Just get it out. You can only cry for so long, now it's my turn to cry for you. But I can't cry if I don't know why." My manipulation tactics were solid gold. Gold, Jerry!

Terrence wiped his eyes with a dirty sock off the floor and then blew a stringy gob of mucus into it. Now he was ready to share. "She dumped me."

"She? Who, Annie?"

"Yeah, Annie."

"You didn't see it coming?" That came out wrong.

Terrence was too upset to shoot me a look. "Nope. I thought things were rosy. We had a magical kiss just a few days ago, and then, tonight, when I brought up marriage, she got all hesitant."

"Women!"

"I know! First she leads me on, says that I'm a great guy, very nice, a stand-up fellow, innocent, cute, all those things women look for, you know. But then the next thing she says, 'It's not you, it's me.'"

"'It's not you, it's me'. That's what she said?" I couldn't believe Annie used the oldest line in the breakup book.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure it wasn't you?" Now I was just provoking him.

Terrence got a little mad at that. "Of course it wasn't me! I did everything the book said!" He pulled out a skinny, worn-down paperback from his back pocket and handed it to me.

"Fast Engagements for Idiots by George Q. Bytheway," I read under my breath.

"I asked her what she was dealing with, why it was her and not me. She said she didn't feel like she was worthy enough to date me." That Annie! Was she going to pull out all of the Provo cliches in one sitting? "So I told her that those feelings are normal when you're dating a spirit-chal guy like me, and that eventually, I would bring her up to my level."

I almost laughed. "What'd she say to that?"

"She just laughed at me."

"What a jerk!"

"I know, I was really upset. But she said it wasn't what I said, she was just reminded of a funny joke." Annie was really taking advantage of poor, trusting Terrence.

"So it is completely over?"

"I'm not sure. I suggested taking a break for a while, but she said we should just be friends and date other people."

"Sounds like it's over." Should I give him the ol' "other fish in the sea" motivational speech now or later? Nah, I'll save it. "Try to get some sleep."

Sunday, September 28, 2003


We were all at Ward Prayer, lacking a certain Terrence. I spied Anita from across the room and tried to make eye contact with her. No such luck. I stared at her for like 5 minutes and got nothin'. This was not good news, especially since I didn't see her at church.

After the prayer, I zoomed over to her to see if she still remembered me. I approached her as she was talking with some Zoob. I tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked to see who it was. It was me.

"Oh, hey. It's you." She returned to her conversation, giving me no chance to speak. So I waited. And waited. I continued standing there like an idiot, waiting for her to turn around to give me an audience. The room cleared out, and it was just us 2 and this Zoob, with me on the outside looking in.

Finally, I cleared my throat and interjected, "Anita, I'd THANK you to give me 10 seconds of your precious time!"

She turned to face me with a scornful mien. "You have 10 seconds."

"Oh, well-"

"9."

"Actually, if-"

"8...7...6..."

"Are you just going to countdown to 0?" I asked in frustration as she maintained her count.

"...3...2...1..." And she turned back to the Zoob. I walked away, angry as ever. What a raunch-beast!

10:43 PM

I was busy moping while finishing up my Biology 100 homework when the Steves walked in, cheerful as always. Nothing like a smile to make my bad mood worse.

"Steve just asked out Anita!" exclaimed Personality Steve.

"What? I had her rights! I was about to sign her to a long-term deal!"

Good-Looking (GL) Steve looked incredulous. "I don't think so, buddy. You had your chance to lock her down, now she's a free agent, and she's signing with me for more money and a guaranteed contract," he said, mockingly.

I couldn't be mad at GL Steve, though. He had his clever retort all ready for my initial rebuttal, and I had to give him props for that. Plus, Anita had clearly blown me off earlier, and that did mean she was a free agent. "You got me, Steve. Good luck with THAT." Then came a knock at the door.

"There she is now," said GL Steve, "couldn't wait for Friday, I bet." He swung open the door and his face dropped. "Oh, it's you." And he slammed the door and walked away.

"Who was it?" I asked.

"Nobody important." I refused to believe him and ran to the door. Ever since junior high, when the phone or doorbell rang, my heart always jumped, hoping it was some beautiful girl that I had a crush on finally coming to her senses and arriving at my door to declare her love. Usually it was the UPS guy or the landlord. At best it was a beautiful girl coming over for one of my roommates. But I still had that hope and ran to open the door. It was Annie.

"Oh, it's you."

"Don't slam it!"

"Why not?"

"I need to talk to Terrence."

"You want him back?"

"No, I-"

"Then you can't talk to Terrence."

"I'm just worried about him! He wasn't at Ward Prayer, he didn't even talk to me at church today."

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Annie. Terrence is already dating someone else, he's fine," I lied.

"He is? Who?"

"Some buxom blonde."

"Very funny."

"Seriously." I kept a straight-face like no one's business.

"Come on, Chris, just let me talk to him. If he says he doesn't want anything to do with me, I'll go away."

"Fine." I went back to the room and Terrence was asleep. Since he got about zero sleep Friday and Saturday night, I didn't wake him. So I lied. "He doesn't want anything to do with you. Sorry, Annie. Looks like your business is done here. Unless you're here for a booty call."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, let me see if Steve's available first."

"Very funny. See you later, jerk."

WILL ANNIE GET BACK TOGETHER WITH TERRENCE? OR WILL SHE START GOING AFTER CHRIS? AND WILL CHRIS JUST FORGET ABOUT ANITA THAT EASILY? AND WHAT WILL HAPPEN ON THE DATE BETWIXT ANITA AND GL STEVE? DISCUSS OR DEATH!

Monday, May 11, 2009

The War Against 6th Grade Oppression

For most of the Orchard Elementary Eagles, the playground behind the school was a prison camp, ruled by the 3rd Reich of 6th graders. If you were unlucky enough to have recess at the same time than Kurt Manwaring and his gang of brutes, then you were forced to play on the short football field, you couldn't use the backstop, and you had to use the old 4-square courts, because once the 6th graders emerged from the cafeteria, you were pushed out.

Kurt Manwaring as a baby

The "good" football field was in the northwest corner of the vast expanse of grass shared with Canyon View Junior High (Gosh help you if a 7th grader trampled you down during a Fun Run). It was a soccer field, marked with boundaries and even had first down markers on the fence posts. Sometimes, during P.E., we'd have the whole field to ourselves, just us 5th graders playing peacefully in a field of long, swaying grass, not unlike a Watchtower picture depicting the Jehovah's Witness version of paradise. All that was missing was a lamb and a lion.

Recess with the 6th graders was not so paradisaical. We wouldn't even bother fighting for the good field, we'd just find our spot on this overran patch of ground that would be a stretch to call "grassy". Games here would end in bloody knees instead of green knees. There were no boundaries, so the fat kid who finally got the ball ran 100 yards out of his way to score a TD because nobody wanted to chase him. It was Football Purgatory.

One day, we decided that we were sick of Football Purgatory, so we just started playing on the good field before the 6th graders escaped the cafeteria. We played apprehensively, like a kid watching forbidden TV while their parents were unawares in the next room, knowing that it was only a matter of time before we got our hand slapped.

Somebody spied the first group of 6th graders making their way across the playground. "Act normal!" we told ourselves, "We have just as much right to be here as they!" We ran a couple more plays when the 6th graders arrived with their medium-sized football. Too big for the mini footballs, were they?

"Alright, get off the field. This is where WE play."

We looked at each other. Nobody said anything, but nobody left, either. We just resumed our game. This infuriated the antagonists. They made their way into our game, tripping the smaller kids and going after the QB. Finally, a 5th grader spoke up.

"We'll play you for it."

The 6th graders liked this idea. Of COURSE they did. They clobbered us, it wasn't even close. The 6th graders like playing us so much that they began to ask us if we wanted to play them every week. Every few weeks, the pain of complete annihilation would sink to the back of our brains and we would agree to another beating. These tri-weekly beatings became a ritual.

However, we got better and better, and one game we even scored a touchdown to only lose by like 20 or so. This encouraged us, and brought back some of the better 5th grade athletes who got so demoralized in the first game that they decided to try their hands at 4 square. Then, one cold day on the playground, we found ourselves in a defensive struggle. These games were getting more and more defensive as more and more students played. We probably had 30 kids against 30 kids out there, it was so packed. Plus, we played 2-below, so "tackling" was pretty easy.
Like this, except with 50 billion more kids

After a couple of possessions, neither team had moved the ball any and each team "punted" (hucked the ball as far as they could - an actual punt would barely pass the line of scrimmage). We pinned the 6th graders down on their goal line, and they weren't moving the ball much. On 3rd down, they decided to throw a slant across the field to future BYU benchwarmer Jason Kukahiko but Adam Keller stepped in front of it, picked it off, and waltzed into the end zone. Touchdown! Seconds later, the bell rang. End of recess--end of game! Victory! We all raised our hands in celebration, screaming like we were giving birth, running towards the school in jubilation. The 6th graders protested and complained that it "didn't count" and there HAD to have been a penalty on the play. But they knew it was too late.
Jason, the only kid from the neighborhood to make a name for himself. Except maybe Timmy G

All over the school, word got around. The 6th graders LOST to the 5th graders! We took over the good football field and the 6th graders never challenged us again. Not because they didn't want to play, but because WE didn't want to. Quit while you're on top, that's what I say!

Friday, May 1, 2009

An Open Letter

Dear Smoker,

I wanted to write you and let you know that I've been thinking about you lately. Sometimes, I even think about you when I'm with my wife. I just wanted to thank you for everything you do for me:

1. You freshen up a restaurant. There's nothing I love more than barbecue ribs with a mesquite smoke flavor, except maybe barbecue ribs with a tobacco smoke flavor. Even though it's illegal to smoke indoors in our state, you know that you're above the law, and that nobody really minds smoke anyway. How right you are.

2. You beautify the city. You liven up boring brick sidewalks with your little white and yellow butts. Even though it's perfectly unacceptable for me to drop an apple core on the sidewalk or even in the gutter, you can drop your unused portion of cigarette anywhere, and that adds to the character of the city.

3. You let me ride in your car with the window cracked in the middle of the winter. This gives me the sensation of speeding down a slope on my snowboard, but instead of that nasty pine tree scent, I get tobacco. I'm glad you cracked your window, it was getting too hot in here, it is a balmy 45 degrees.

4. My clothes don't reek like laundry detergent when I'm around you. My hotel room smells like a dream after you've left. Without you, we would be living in a stale world, breathing plain air, but you have provided everybody within 100 feet a distinct odor for them to breathe in.

5. You stand your ground. Despite people dying young from lung cancer and scientific studies proving that smoking is bad for you, you continue to hold to your convictions. Why do you need to quit? You can jog for a good 5 minutes without stopping for a cig, and that seems healthy enough. Smoking ain't gonna kill YOU!

6. You care for your family. So much, in fact, that you smoke their cigarettes for them every time they're around. "Thanks for smoking around me!" they say, with sincere feelings of gratitude in their hearts. "Now I don't have to spend the money on my own pack of cigarettes!" How kind of you. Instead of making them pay half for your cigarettes, you let them breathe it in for free.

So, once again, I thank you for smoking. Please make sure you blow smoke in my direction every chance you get. I will smile and my lungs will thank you for it.

Sincerely,

Me