This is a story about coming of age. It was actually published in the children’s book series THE ADVENTURES OF TOOTSIE WOO!!! If you haven’t read it, you should check it out. It’s about a ghost who travels around with a carnival doing sexual favors for miners. And you thought Casper was friendly!
After reading this entry (or entrée if you figuratively eat words) you will think of me differently. I won’t be that cool guy you all aspire to be like. You’ll see me as a square. An awkward square. Such an awkward square that I’ve become a rhombus. That’s what I am. The biggest rhombus in the world.
I’ve only ever witnessed somebody do cocaine once in my life. It was scary. I was in the home of a stranger and there was a 5’4 guy there with a very round hat. A 4’10 girl that seemed to have an attitude problem came up to me and said that I didn’t have to be scared. Then a knife fell out of her pocket and I turned away, scared and scarred. How did I know how tall everyone was? There was a growth chart in the room!
What mistakes did I make in my life that led me to this place? How did I get here? (CUE: The Talking Heads)
I had been visiting a friend for the evening. The night started off normally. Girls were ignoring me, bartenders looked at me like I had no idea what I was doing (which I didn’t), and my allergies were bad. My allergies are always bad. Even in a bar filled with fag-hags. Maybe I’m allergic to a good time. Or more accurately, an over-hyped not as spectacular as I had imagined it would be time. Lets go with that second one.
I remember locking eyes with one fag-hag in particular. My eyes said “Let me come over there” and her eyes said “Is he looking at me or the window behind my face?” The answer was both, but I didn’t know how to properly respond with just eye signals. I hung out near the cigarette machine which still exist. That 4’10 girl came over and basically shoved me out-of-the-way. I was really turned on by this. She looked like she was 16 and was in a bar, pushing adults to the side, drunk and high on everything she could get. I should have married her right then and there. That way I’d know that my life would end up like crap and I would never get my hopes up.
My friend and I left the bar and found somewhere more quiet. A random woman sat in his chair and she left her cell phone there. He told me that her boyfriend was a douche bag. I continued to cock block him completely by talking to the girl in a friendly way instead of doing what I should have done, ignore her completely. I was young, I learned. If you want a girl to talk to you the last thing you should do is talk to her. Life is complicated and makes no sense like that.
We then went in search of another bar that he said was down the street. It apparently didn’t exist. I found this odd because he lived 5 minutes away and claimed that it was indeed there yesterday. This is why I don’t have trust others or believe what a GPS tells me. Buildings don’t just get up and walk away. Unless you live in Alabama where homes do it all the time. We returned to the first bar only to find that everyone was leaving. “House party!” someone shouted. So, we went.
The house party was at the home of the cocaine girl. She had a giant dog crate in the corner and a bird-cage. Both of them were empty. A tall man and a girl went into the bathroom and came out a half hour later. The fat guy there had to pee on a fence. Nobody really talked to me. One guy who seemed to also not know anyone stood near me and I asked him a few questions that strangers might ask. He lived about 10 minutes away and his favorite color was blue. I quickly ran out of questions and he left. Then a woman with a pixie haircut started talking to me. She had an overweight boyfriend who would scrunch his eyes like he was trying to shit whenever he would talk to me. He’d puff out his cheeks and nod during my responses to his questions about where I lived and what my favorite colors were. The house party stunk.
Someone informed us that the party was moving somewhere else. We all walked about 10 minutes to a bigger home, that of an overweight woman. There’s no reason to point out that she was overweight. Really, there’s no reason to write any of this. I already gave away the ending. A girl does cocaine and I get scared. But to sound smart and artistic, I will describe what was wrong with people who I encountered. The owner of this home’s problem, being a gigantic scary creature.
The “party” continued and I stood around awkwardly. Then I sat around awkwardly. Then everyone who was sitting got up and stood some more. I ran out of things to do. Sitting and standing are my go-to motions. I couldn’t lie down. That’s a real party faux pas.
I went outside and stood there for a bit. Then everyone went inside and I had to knock on the door because they had locked me outside. Hey it happens. Not the first and wasn’t the last that I was completely ignored. I came inside and saw the girl I wanted to have sex with. That’s kind of always what I do when I enter a room, leave a room, enter a car, leave a car, enter a stadium, leave a stadium, etc. She had marijuana eyes and I think it’s because she was on marijuana. She mentioned how she thought one of the guys at the party was cute and his name was Dan. I tried smiling at her and she left the room.
My awkward standing continued and that’s when I saw cocaine girl. She was sitting at a table bitching to a friend. “How am I ever going to find a guy that loves me? I can’t even drink. And that means he can’t drink because when he kisses me I’ll be able to taste it on his lips.” No. She wasn’t being a self-righteous prude. She had that medical condition where alcohol makes you sick. I think we all have that condition. She has it worse. She’ll die if she drinks a beer. We’ll put on a goofy hat and embarrass ourselves. I’m still undecided on which is worse.
Cocaine girl took a bag out from her pocket and then pulled over a magazine from the table. It was something about fishing. Or maybe it was a Playboy. I’m not sure. I couldn’t tell if the man in the picture was wearing a bucket or a cowboy hat. Cokey emptied her bag onto the magazine and without thinking twice closed up her one nostril and snorted with the other. All done! She cleaned up that cocaine like she was an anteater cleaning up whatever it is that those creatures eat.
I didn’t know what had just happened. I had seen cocaine done in movies. Never in person. This must be like when you give birth to a baby. You can know exactly what it looks like yet until it happens to you, you don’t know how to react or how it feels. I was flabbergasted. I wanted to leave. I felt uncomfortable that a woman who thinks a guy won’t date her because she can’t drink beer solves her problems by snorting cocaine. That’s a much bigger deal breaker. Cocaine involves bad tempers and Scarface references. She was a good-looking girl and I would have raised my eyebrows for her until I witnessed her commit a crime. She missed out. She broke our unsaid deal.
Now for the rest of my life I will be prepared for when I see someone snort cocaine. I hope you don’t have to go through the fear and confusion that I did. Cocaine is a dangerous drug. It blows your chances at taking a ride on the wild side with me. What’s scarier than that?
“I love the Cocaine.” – Buckcherry, a band who might have more than 2 hits if they laid off the hard stuff