For those of you who have accomplished nothing with their lives and remember my old post New Experiences, you may remember me promising I would have more new experiences. I have. Not too many worth writing about. Since that post I have read a book, I have cleaned my toilet, and I have found a strange bruise on my leg twice. Today is different. Today I present to you another new experience I had on a Saturday night.
Normally my Saturday nights are spent listening to a baseball game on the radio, working on writing something, and subconsciously hoping a stray bullet lands in my jugular. I had been text messaging with old friends with high school the last few months. All of us lie about how busy our schedules are to make ourselves seem like we’re important and hanging out never happened. I put my foot down and agreed on this Saturday in particular I would hang out with at least one of my old friends. Now all I had to do was find an official NASA polo shirt to keep the lie going that I am an astronaut.
(I wonder what’s wrong with this chick’s face)
The plan was originally for my good friend Rob and me to go over to our old friend Mickey’s house. Mickey was the ultimate prankster in high school. Actually prankster seems like too weak a word. Troublemaker, nuisance, annoyance, and sillygoose are more accurate. I think my favorite “prank” we would play was on the campus security guard who was basically a hall monitor with a walkie-talkie. We called him Frankie P. as his name was Franklin Palzone and this was the most obnoxious thing to call him. Each day during study hall we would take a piece of paper, write “Reserved for Frankie P” on the paper, tape it to a chair, then place the chair in the path he always took to the teacher’s lounge. One day he snapped and some Egyptian dweeb ratted us out. We all denied it. Frankie P thought he scared us good until one morning he woke up with the same chair from the cafeteria sitting on the front stoop of his home with a “Reserved for Frankie P” sign taped to it. I think his power trip ended after that.
Our plan changed this Saturday night and instead we were invited to the one place I feel most out of my element, a church. It was described to me as a “gathering of 20-something year olds for fun and games.” I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect. Normally when you put 20-something year olds in a room together a bong and lost dreams appear. Since this would be taking place in a church basement I had assumed the only thing to appear would be Jesus’s face in a grilled cheese sandwich.
After some catching up at Mickey’s house after not seeing each other for 6 years, we headed out to the church. We got there and were some of the first few to arrive. Most people present I had never seen before. They were good church folk who for some strange reason smoked, cursed, and brought up marijuana way too often. I was introduced to everyone as they came. Two girls touched my hand. One seemed eager to do so. The second seemed like she had to because Jesus would have wanted her to be nice to someone of lesser value. There were two Indian kids. For a while I thought there was only one Indian kid. I’m not even sure which one of them I had a long conversation with. When each told me their names I said “What?” twice to try to get a clearer understanding. My asking “What?” is limited to twice. After that I pretend I understand.
(If the British understood a damn thing he said maybe they would have given him what he wanted and Gandhi wouldn’t have been so hungry)
I was a little worried a Bible might be brought out as this was an event for people from a Bible Study Group. Whenever I’m at a church function I never know how to behave. I believe in the values they teach, I just don’t think it’s necessary to worship someone else. I want to be a good person because being a good person is the right thing to do. I shouldn’t be kind to others because I’m afraid of burning in hell. Anything nice I ever do is never because someone died for my sins. I do it because I want life to be something worth living. Surrounding myself with kindness does not need a commitment to a church or anything at all. I forget where I was going with this, but this is the basis for the doctrine I’m writing for the cult I have decided to start.
(The costume is alright but it’s a little too baggy. I like to at least try to show off that I have much wider shoulders than I do a waist and this outfit would totally clash with what I want)
The only religion that was brought into the evening was before eating. We were asked to pray. I looked to Rob as neither of us were sure whether or not to fake it. I would never want a girl to fake an orgasm with me. I don’t think they would because no girl could ever possibly get pleasure from 15 seconds of my fury. I put my hands together anyway and said my own prayer:
Hey God, this is kind of awkward. It’s like we’re two old pals who have to work together to do an art project together. Uhhh thanks for the food and such. The pizza smells good. I think I’ll grab a slice with pineapple on it even though I don’t like pineapple much. But I’m trying to do new things and it would fit in with my blog post. Do you read my blog? Of course you do. You’re God. You’ve got all day Sunday to rest and surf the web. I don’t know why you’d be listening to me now. You never really listened to me before. But hey, that’s alright. Maybe I didn’t need that GI Joe fortress I always wanted. Maybe I deserved to grow up hating myself. Maybe asking for happiness for myself and those around me was asking too much. I forgive you. I can do this on myself now. Maybe your plan all along was to teach me to help myself. You know, that was probably it. You’re quite a card God. Amen.
The night continued. We ate, we reminisced, we played some games, and I guess we did what people with morals do on a Saturday night. I drank about 7 bottles of water and heard someone yell, “What happened to all of the water?” I slowly slid my empty bottles under one of the fat twin’s chairs to avoid a fight. Before we knew it 4 hours had gone by. We had only intended on staying maybe 2 at the most, but the power of Christ/the brownies compelled us to stay.
(I was a very good boy and avoided any dessert foods. The key to avoiding sugary homemade snacks is to look at the person who made them. I usually get disgusted thinking their gross hands touched my food)
I did not have any brownies though. I was a very good boy. Enough people told me I looked good. None had seen me since high school. The last time a person who I had not seen in years told me I looked good I ate 6 donuts in one sitting. This time I knew better. I knew to revel in the glory. It’s not even so much I’m happy to make them jealous. It’s more they can see through me they can accomplish great things too. It’s not only my appearance that has changed. My attitude has as well. I am a more confident person. I’m more understanding than ever before about everything. I also know when some fat twin goes on too long about some person I don’t care about from high school that it’s time to get up and take a piss.
We left the church without saying goodbye to anyone. I’m hoping they thought the rapture had begun. I could tell Rob didn’t have as good of a night as I did so we dropped him off at his house before going to Mickey’s dads to chill a little bit more. Big mistake Rob. As soon as we got there Victoria Justice showed up. She was looking for you. She settled for me because I knew the most facts about your life. When I banged her against an armoire she made me name your relatives, hobbies, and favorite childhood memories. That actually didn’t happen. Everybody did things they would never do at a church then I went home with a new experience under my belt.