Tell a Story

Here’s the rules. I’ll start. I’ll tell a story. If you respond to my story, you have to write a story of your own. Or just write a story of your own anyway. It has to be true though, 100%, no made up shit whatsoever. I’m kind of drunk, but you don’t have to be. CAuse I know most of you don’t touch the stuff any way. You also don’t have to write it at 6AM. Just tell a story. No reply only threads. If you reply, you have to tell a story. If not, I’ll make SK change your MB name to xxx_loves_zeppelins_weenis. So unless you want your name to look like that, tell a fucking story. This story happened to me tonight! how appropriate.

I met this girl Christina Wednesday night at Ashbary’s Coffee House. For those of you who don’t know, I live in the Chicagoland area. I used to live in Chicago, but after I got back from Paris, I had no place to live, so now I live at my parents’ in Schaumburg, a suburb to the NW of Chicago, by the airport. Anyhow, Ashbary’s is a coffee house on the SW side, about 40 minutes from downtown. She’s a pretty hot latina, though SG says she has no ass. But I like ‘em skinny. I’m not a big ass kind of guy. I like em tight. Anyway, we talk a bit, but she has to go a bit after I arrive. She tells me she usually hangs there Wednesday’s though, cause of open mic night. So cool, I’ll meet her next Wednesday I guess. But I’m sort of impatient. I haven’t gotten sex in a month in a half, and god damn, I wanted to fuck this creature. Well, she was a friend of my friend Don, and Don is one cool ass motherfucker, so any friend of his has to be cool by association. So I get her number from him on Thursday, and I give her a call. She seemed decently happy to hear I took the effort to contact her. She tells me she is busy this weekend, but wants to get together anyway, so she invites me to her parents’ house on Saturday. She has to visit them, you know, some crazy latina thing, where they still care about their family or whatever. She was born and lived in Mexico City for a while, though she is pretty damn American, but I guess she still carried over some of that shit. So I agree to go. Why not? I have no better plans, and plus, free homecooked mexican food. Rock on my bitches.

So I meet her today. I give her a Parisian greeting (two kisses on each cheek), she thinks that’s cute as hell. She speaks French too, so we parlez-vous a bit on her way there. She lives in Chicago, in the Pilsen neighborhood. IT’s a mexican community just west of downtown, like 5 or 10 minutes. It’s sort of well known as a bad neighborhood, gang-infested, but undergoing gentrification at the moment. IF you don’t know what that means, go read a sociology text book. Or google it. So I take the train into the city and meet her there, and she drives down to her parents’ place, in another mexican community further south, around 55th Street. In case you don’t know, Chicago has a very large Mexican population. About 25% of the city is Mexican now, and over a million Mexicans live in the Chicagoland area (including the suburbs). So yeah, there’s a lot of mexican neighborhoods. Blah blah blah. We stay there many hours, til about 10PM, we eat food, I drank at least a bottle of cheap wine by myself, Christina had maybe half of one. I’m feeling pretty good. She’s feeling pretty good. I got on well with her parents. I was sort of scared, cause I didn’t know how to act around Mexican parents, but they spoke french too, so I didn’t have to speak my broken-ass Spanish with them. The more wine I had, the more french I talked, and they thought it was cute. Needless to say, 10PM comes around, Christina offers me a ride back to her place, with the obvious look of “hey we’re gonna fuck when we get back to my place”, so I follow to her car like a good boy. We get back to her place. I foreplay as much as my wino, drunk ass can, and we fuck a couple of times. Sans condom. First time for me that way. Probably not a good decision. She says she takes the pill though. Whatever.

We fall asleep. My cell phone ends up on her bedside table. About 3AM, my phone starts ringing. I don’t know why I answered it, but I did. It’s my acquaintence Stan. I say that because he isn’t really a friend, more like a friend of a friend. He sounds frantic. “Thank god you picked up dude. No one else would. I’m in county [he means the jail]. I got busted for possession. I bailed myself out, but I need a ride.” I’m just like…what the FUCK. I barely even know this guy. But what a coincidence. Cook county courthouse, and the associated jail, is at 26th Street and California, about 2 miles from Christina’s flat. So despite the fact that I’m naked in bed and probably going to get wakeup head (oh man I love wakeup head), I say fine, I’ll come get you, but I don’t got my car. I’ll find a ride." So I call my friend from high school brian, he moved to the south side, around 95th Street. A twenty minute ride from me, but the bastard owed me big time, for reasons I won’t go into. He agreed to come, since he knew Stan also. So I leave this girl’s place without even saying goodbye at 3:30AM, and we go to goddamn cook county jail in the fucking ghetto in the middle of the night. He’s standing, waiting outside. He hops in the car. Apparently he got busted with over 100grams of the ganj. That’s like a quarter of a pound. That’s a lot. He’s facing up to 5 years in prison. So of course, the only thing on his mind was, “let’s go get fucking drunk as hell.”

But first…he pulls some blunts out of his pocket. Apparently the 100 gram bag was such a big find to the cops, they didn’t even search his pockets. He had some blunts in there. And he was sitting in jail with them all night. So there we are, in the parking lot of cook county jail, and we each light up a joint. The car is looking like fucking cheech & chong. We finish them, then we head out to copper kitchen, the only 24 hour place we can think of that will serve us beer at 4AM. So we go, Brian puts in some punk rock shit called Anti-Flag. I haven’t listened to this kind of stuff in years. It was like listening to Bad Religion in junior high or something. I was just high enough to find this entertaining while we go there. So we go, order some pints, bitch about fucking cops, I tell them about how I’d gone to Amsterdam and smoked 5X as much shit as we had that night, and it didn’t mean a god damn thing. I haven’t ever felt so anti-establishment. Stan is going on and on about how he’s just going to show up to court and plead guilty, but I’m like “god damn man, at least get a public defender. most of those guys are pretty good actually, and looking to go into politics or get a judgeship or something like that.” So I think I at least convinced him to take a smart move. 5AM rolls around, I’m starting to get buzzed on the alcohol again and still buzzed from the weed. The trains start again at 5, so I hop on, I’m back to my car at 5:45, and I drive home.

When did I become this kind of person? The kind of person who has sex with a girl he just met, leaves her at 3AM without saying anything to go pick up some guy I barely know from jail, get blitzed in the parking lot, and drink beer at an old-folks 24 hour restaurant at 5AM? When did I make these life decisions? The strangest thing is, I had the time of my life tonight. Now I just need to figure out whether or not I call this girl when I wake up. I think I should. I think I should…

Edit: 666th Post. How appropriate.

Damn, I dont know if I can tell a story that compares to that. I will tell a story and it will be almost entirely true, but I can’t help but make things bigger than they are. I don’t lie in my stories, or make shit up, I just tell it with more flare than reality. As for the anti-establishment theme of things, I have to ask if any of the “right/wrong” thinking going on, or if was all just about the moment and living it to its best?

So its four weeks ago, to the day, and Martin Luther King day is coming up, so I don’t have to worry about going to class the following Monday, so I decide to head up to Chicago to see an old friend of mine, who moved back to her parents house after leaving SIU during at the end of her sophomore year. I hadn’t seen her since the last week she was in school down here, and I had long since started missing her. (Unlike zeppelins story, mine doesn’t involve sex, not even in the history of how I know her)

So, I decided to drive up there and visit. I left around noon, after dropping a couple of friends off at Amtgard (if anyone recalls the “lightning bolt” thread, its like that game, without the stupid person screaming lightning bolt), and grabbing a few more friends to take on the road with me. I really can’t give much justice to the car ride, other than to ask who else has driven six hours straight through.

So we are pulling into Chicago, and looking for the meeting location, a Denny’s on Lake Street. The way it was described to get there was to take the third exit for Hwy 20 from I-90/355. Well what I thought was the third was apparently only the second, so we ended up driving aimlessly along Lake Street for at least another half of an hour, wondering how we could have possibly missed the Dennys. We finallly get there, and meet up with Mack (the goal of the journey) pretty soon afterwords. After having a quick dinner there, we go winding through at least seven different streets until we pull out onto a street that I swear was named Lake Street, and go to this bar for Kareoke night, where we meet up with her boyfriend. The guys name is Drake, and he is obnoxiously goth, but in a faux cultured way, not in a Hot Topic way, so I have to give him some credit.

We’ll, we stay there till around midnight, when we try to get in contact with Carrie, who had promised me a sofa to sleep on that night, but for whatever reason, she is uncontactable. Instead, we decide to go to some nature preserve, and after winding through more and more roads, I kid you not, we pull back out onto Lake Street. The bar may or may not have been on Lake Street, but I KNOW that we at least crossed Lake Street to get to this nature preserve.

So we leave our cars at a minimall and start walking along a quarter-mile road through some woods that leads up to a hill. On the top of the hill, the January wind is absolutely brutal. A wind chill of like -5 was cutting at my earmuff free ears. So after Mack has a cigarette or two, we climb back down to our cars. Before I continue with this part of the story, I’d like to say, that it was a clear night sky and I still could honestly see more lights from airplanes than I could see stars. For someone who has always lived in the countryside, this was a somewhat unsettling feeling.

So we get back to our cars and Drive to another Dennys on Lake Street. Oh yeah, for those of you who know Chicago, This was all in and around the Addison area. We still haven’t found Carrie, and its getting close to 4am. With some sort of a miracle or strange magic, we finally get in contact with her, and my two driving companions and I head over to her apartment complex after saying goodbye to Mack.

We get there and the place is like heaven. First of all, Carrie is a wonderful person, and seeing her brightens my day; second of all, Warhammer 40k figures everywhere; third, painting supplies everywhere and some nice finished products; fourth, Anime wall scrolls! So here it is four-thirty in the morning, I have been driving all day, and had so much coffee that the buzz is no longer keeping me up, but causing my body to want to shut down, and Carrie is trying to play good hostess. By 5am, I finally just give her a hug and say goodnight in the middle of her sentence, and I immediately proceed to fall unconscious on the floor next to the couch.

I woke up to her sisters boyfriend walking out into the room and looking around confused at the heaps of extra people in the living room. So then there is this long awkward time in which everyone is awake but Carrie. And I had never met Carrie’s sister before, let alone her sister’s boyfriend, so there is a good two hours of us all just kinda waiting for Carrie to wake up.

When she finally does, the important events of the morning are three of us sitting on the apartment floor, playing with fake fabric flowers. Now I realize that this sounds childish and effeminate, but that is why it was such a beutiful moment. And the other moment is when I got a glass of orange juice, and got the only minute in which I could talk to her alone, without relatives and friends (or her boyfriend) around. We were standing there in the kitchen for just a minute when I looked to her and said “omnia tibi”, which is Latin for “for you, everything.” Its something that I had told her a year and a half ago, after I had rescued her from being harassed at a pary by a drunk Texan. It was my way of telling her that she was worth far more than the world could ever offer her. So then we had a moment of communication that was very deep and bittersweet before going back to play with fabric flowers.

I ended up leaving by one in the afternoon, and once again, there is no just way to explain the car ride other than by reminding everyone whos driven for six hours straight that Chicago and Carbondale are hundreds of miles from each other.

So I guess where zeppelin’s story was all about an anti-establishment theme, mine is more about the lengths that I will go to for what seems like minimal returns on my time investment. People are the important part of my story, and hence I am willing to spend a hundred dollars (gas and food costs) and two full days of my life just to spend a few hours with a couple of friends. Its like responsibility meant nothing relative to the value of human interaction.


May 2nd 2000 (My 16th birthday)

For the last few days I lived in a foster home. When the current people taking care of me couldn’t do so anymore, I was to be put into the system. I knew this was coming but I refused to admit it to myself. For the last five months I knew but I still hoped for an impossable outcome.

The car ride was well over an hour and my mind was focused on how I got into this. My grandmother’s death, my father going to jail, or my stepmother screwing up? I mostly thought about where I lived at before the foster home. I lived with my friend Oliver, his brother Martin, and his parents. When I stayed there things were fine at first. But I kept getting sick, and often. I also had developed ringworm.

I couldn’t get my cloths at Oliver’s so all I had was what I was wearing, a anime shirt and blue shorts. When we got to Great Oaks Village (GOV), a foster care facility, I talked with a supervisor who threatened to Baker act ( me if I didn’t stop acting sad and depressed because of my new situation. I was put into a dorm with a kid named Omar. He was ok. As a birthday present I was given a shirt, pants, a cake, and chocolate pudding. I met the staff for Mon-thurs who, for the most part, were decent.

We went to the dining hall to eat and I met formally met the other people in my cottage. The food was below decent. After that I ate some cake and pudding. After I ate I met Rusty. A person who lived in this almost all his life and who made up his own rules. I didn’t talk to him much on that day. I mostly just stared out the window. My mind was racing. My past, my present, and my future. How I kept getting sick at Oliver’s house

If I recall corectly we went to the mall. I thought about running away, but I was in Orlando and my goal was Sanford. A far journey indeed on foot with no money. The mall made me even more depressed. We returned at nine P.M. And I went to bed. Still I thought at my current state and then I cried myself to sleep that was my first day of my 3 year journey. I stayed a year longer due to school and certain problems with the indapendant living program.

Once upon a time there was a castle. And then there wasn’t! It was destroyed by marauding orcs. Or goblins. Or gnomes. I don’t really remember. Something evil anyway. Actually it could have been rats. Stupid wooden fortress. Fell down around us. Then the marauding gnomes came and stole the timber. Then the marauding goblins came and stole the food. Then the marauding orcs came. We slaughtered them and ate them. Orc stew tastes good. Anyway, the important thing was I was wearing an onion on my belt, as was the style at the time.
And that’s the story of the carrot. Because we couldn’t get onions, so we had to wear carrots on our belts. Although we didn’t have carrots, so we had to use orc heads painted orange. Boy did we ever smell. Made a good snack though. Mmmm…orc heads…

Can i get my username changed to that anyway?

My story isn’t too awesome, and it happened awhile ago, but i think its cool so i’ll post it anyway.

It was a normal friday night. I had ventured out of my basement to go to the local mall. I go every friday night to “Dance Dance it up” as some people say. I’m probably the best PAer in the arcade. Hahaha bragging is fun :stuck_out_tongue:

So anyway, i show up and see my “crew” already “getting their groove on” so to speak. I say hi, give hi fives, all that jazz. I put my Initial D card up and go play some SC2 to wait.

Its my turn in the lineup so i walk over and take my card off and put my money in. Some older woman tries to shove her awkward looking teenage daughter onto the machine, but i explain “its my turn, but you guys can put a quarter up, if you want”. This, however, is clearly not good enough for her. She gets all huffy and starts yelling at me and calling me a nerd (wow. mature.) and then stomps on the mat. I tell her “this game costs like 8000 bucks, and its already breaking, please don’t do that”. She gets even more pissed and starts to walk out.

As shes walking out, her (son? boyfriend of daughter?) walks in and sees her being huffy. He asks “whats going on?” and she points at me. At this point i’m in “oh shit” mode, and i’m trying to select my song and pretend i don’t see them. My friends are laughing at the whole situation, and one sits down on the 2P side to camp it for me.

I start my song (a cata, i dunno which one), and AA it. Yes i rock, praise me. Then i pick my second song. About a quarter of the way through, i realize i’ve got full combo. Holy shit, i think, i might get double AA’s! But just then i see (prephiherial vision) my buddy get thrown off the 2P side.

So then this boyfriend or son or whatever, jumps onto the 2P side and starts being an ass. He’s clapping and screaming and jumping around. And he’s like 20+, seriously, what the fuck happened to being mature? He does this for a little bit, then he starts waving his hand in front of me.

I get really pissed and flick him off, and then he starts threatening me. A few seconds later he goes back to dancing around. I still have FC, amazingly. But then his foot hits my ankle from his dancing around, and i get a good.

I’m so angry at this point, that i just blackflag the song and lunge at him. I hit him in the shoulders, and knock him off the mat. I push him into the MvC2 machine we have there, and he bends backward on to it. He pushes me, and i fly back onto the mat of the DDR machine. I’m on my back, and he starts coming for me. He tries to grab my legs, but i kick him in the chest, and knock him back again. I jump up, and as he is still falling, i lunge at him again, knocking him onto the control panel of the MvC2 machine. He falls across it this time, and bends his back really bad. He charges for me and tries to punch me, but my buddies, the arcade manager and some other dude grab him and pull him away. I throw a punch at him, but miss and hit the manager.

So then they pull him out of the arcade, and they make me cool down. We all chill out and just sit on the mats for a bit. The manager eventually comes over and goes “that was fucking nuts”.

It was pretty sweet. I think i’ve told some people here about it already, but not most, sorry if i’m repeating myself.

That was like the first fight i’ve gotten into since 2nd grade :stuck_out_tongue:

About a month ago, my fraternity had our quarterly “Ice Cream Social”. It’s a long-standing tradition to hold these once a quarter. Basically we have one or more strippers come over to the house, and they do their thing. There’s a whole set of euphemisms to go along with it. For example, the previous week my brothers and I went to a strip club (my first time) to look for any potentials, as it was their amateur night and we knew those girls are looking for work. In our euphemism-speak, we would say, “hey, wanna go over to the local ice cream parlor and see what kind of flavors they have?” “Only if it’s low fat. I don’t want any Chunky Monkey.”

There’s another part to the tradition. The president is supposed to be the guest of honor at the ICS, and he brings the official gavel for the strippers to use in all sorts of creative ways. Then, as the other brothers are getting lapdances and whatnot, the last pledge class is supposed to steal the gavel and then return it at a later point.

Our president was mysteriously absent that night. He was a smart, smart man. Since he was gone, the guest of honor became the most recent pledge class president, me. Keep in mind I had no part in choosing the flavor of ice cream. One of the other brothers said he found a good one on craigslist, that would be cheap. I half expected him to hire an escort that did dancing on top of her usual business, since you can find a lot of them on craigslist. :stuck_out_tongue:

So after we have the money all worked out, the stripper, er “ice cream” starts doing her thing, and I’m first. I start out in the chair, but then she gets me to lie down on the floor, and she’s crawling over me. I’m having a great time, even though she’s not that great looking and we’re not supposed to touch. I dig the skinny girls like Zepp does, and with good reason. The next thing I know is, she’s dropping her lower body – literally DROPPING it – onto mine. Like a crude approximation of clothed sex, only painful. I’m just bewildered by this girl… what in the holy hell is she doing? Does she think it’s a turn on? She’s practically crushing my pelvis! She was far from fat, but not a light girl, AT ALL. Especially in comparison to skinny ol’ me.

Fortunately it was over quickly, and I took a seat on the couch, while the stipper went around and gave lap dances to the brothers. But when she gets to me, she decides to have another go. She gets me down on all fours, takes off my belt, pulls down my pants and boxers, and starts wailing on my bare ass with the belt. She had done this before, and it hurt like a fucking… I don’t know, like a lot. Then she gets a couple of the girls in the room (yeah, a couple girlfriends of the house were talked into coming) and she gets THEM to start beating on my ass too! And this was dulled down for me, since I was fairly tipsy by this point.

I wasn’t the only one to receive the special S&M treatment. The bro that hired her got his neck in a collar, and he had to act like a dog. I think he liked it, though. That guy has a reputation at the house for doing pretty sick stuff – golden showers are his specialty. I’m thankful she didn’t find the gavel and use it on me in some way. But yeah, most of the other brothers agreed that she was pretty lame.

Next time I’ll vote for getting an escort. So it’s sloppy seconds, and maybe she’s not even much of a dancer… even bad sex would be better than that ice cream.

EDIT: Oh yeah, Zepp, when DID you make these life decisions? :stuck_out_tongue:

Lol Zepp, that chick is gonna go CUCKOO, hahahahaaa hahahaha. And you also suck if you don’t like Bad Religion. :stuck_out_tongue: Anti-Flag is like, ok I guess, but Bad Religion is tight. Anyways.

I have two stories…both of them involving dreams, since they both happened recently. Even though dreams may not technically be real, it’s interesting to me, because I seldom remember dreams. The second one will have some more interesting stuff, cos it was a deja vu case. I’ve never actually had deja vu before, so this is another reason I’d like to talk about this.

Story 1 - The Fatal Crash

January 23rd, 2005. I had my first session of Chemistry the next day. I wanted to do well in the class, and I was worried about how I’d perform, since I hadn’t taken a lab science in four years, and I was never any good at it to begin with. So, I went to bed early (12:15 AM, yeah that’s real early :P).

The next morning, as I was driving to school, I felt incredibly tired…So tired, in fact, that I accidentally drove past the entrance to the parking lot! I kept driving, and thought, "Ok cool, no big deal. I’ll just go to the next stop light, then flip a bitch (This is slang for making a U-Turn), and go back to class. So, all is going according to plan, but I start feeling the overbearing weight of my tiredness come over me as I pull off the road to turn around. I began to slide down my seat, trying to fall asleep. As a habit, I always leave to class as late as I possibly can, so I began to worry. I kept telling myself “No, no, just get up, you have to get up…it’s the first day of your Monday class, you can’t miss it, you’ll be dropped. Don’t fall asleep in your truck, Jamie, you haven’t even parked it, you’re going to crash…” I fought SO hard to FORCE myself into consciousness. It felt as futile as running a fist through someone’s stomach with pure force. My eyes wouldn’t open as hard as I tried to make them open. My arms wouldn’t lift, as hard as I tried to make them move…I tried, and tried, and tried.

Suddenly, I opened my eyes, and it was dark. I felt a numbness all through my body, but ESPECIALLY in my upper legs. I lay there for a few minutes in confusion; then as my consciousness came back to me, as it always does a few minutes after waking, I had realized what had happened. “Damnit. Damnit. Damnit!”

Here’s what I concluded happened, after a short scrutiny:

When I went to bed, I fell asleep so fast, I didn’t even realize it. I was so worked up about school the next day, that I had a dream about going to class. Well, I started having the dream as I was drifting into a sleep mode, so it felt like I was falling asleep behind the wheel! Well, I forced myself into consciousness, because I thought what was happening was real, but I ended up just waking up in my room. I managed to fall asleep again in a much less comfortable position, and my upper legs felt sore, like as if I had lifted weights with them, all day long.

The end.

Story 2 - Car troubles and kid’s gloves will get you chicks

Monday, February 7th, 2005. I came home from Chemistry with a killer ass headache, and took like a four hour nap in the middle of the day. I had another very realistic dream. There were many parts to it, because I find that with my dreams, I normally shift between different parts and things, and am always with the same people. I have forgotten every other part of my dream except for this part.

At one point of my dream, my clique and I were walking to one of our friends’ houses to see if he wanted to hang out. We went in to see if he wanted to hang out, but he was asleep. Because my clique are a bunch of rowdy dicks when put together, we tried to wake him up for like several minutes, but to no avail. We were also randomly concerned about whether or not his dog should have been out in the front yard, cos he has no gate.

Anyways! When we left, for some reason, my car, a Red Ford Taurus, was chillin’ outside of his house. I don’t know why it was there. We got in my car to leave, but it wouldn’t start. Now left with no option, we went back in to wake him up. We succeeded, and he said he would call his neighbor to help, since she could probably fix it. We went out to try and start it again, and we got it started somehow, just before his neighbor came out.

The neighbor came out, not knowing that I had already started the car. I was surprised to see that it was a girl I knew, Cara Mia, who I took on a date last summer (Like, as in I really did, not as in just a dream :P). I got out to talk to her since she wanted to see what was up…

She told me “Man, you have know idea how worried I was! I thought there was an emergency or something!” and I just told her “What, my car dying isn’t an emergency?” well, I flirted it up with her (I can now honestly say I even flirt in my sleep, haw) and asked her for her number (When I woke up, I checked what her number really was, and it wasn’t anything close to what she told me in the dream, lol), then she went back home.

There’s more to that dream, but that’s the only part that’s pertinent to the story… Here’s where it gets interesting.

The next day comes around. A so-so day, whatever. As I am pulling into my parking lot after finishing my last lameass class, Green_Mage from the boards calls me up. He’s all “Hey, do you have any jumper cables? This chick is trying to start her car up, and I don’t have any jumper cables.” Well, not being one to deny my friend, and not having anything to do, I get some jumper cables and go back to the college, where this chick’s car is broken down.

Well, I pull in, and I jump out with the jumper cables. I notice that my skeleton gloves are dirty (I have these wool gloves with skull and crossbones that I wear). As I approach GM and this chick with my damn jumper cables, she comes up to me, and is all “Hi! I got the car started somehow, right before you got here. I’m sorry! Nice gloves, by the way.”

Well, at that point, the striking resemblance to the dream I had the previous day had hit me. I was in the reverse situation. I am a pretty confident guy, but at that point, I was unstoppable; I felt like I knew exactly how this conversation was going to go from the moment she said that, so I went in for the kill immediately.

I started in on her…“Yeah, they WERE nice gloves, until I ruined them by coming out here to save your ass! What am I gonna do with these jumper cables now? Oh, and look at my truck! I fucked it up while I was hurrying over here,” I said, as I pointed to a dent on my hood that I got from a fender bender over a year ago, “and for what? Sheesh!” The whole time I was telling her this, she was just laughing her ass off, all “Sorry! Jeez, I’m so sorry!” She then asked “Did your friend call you out of class to help me?” Of course he didn’t but I was all “Yes! I’m probly gonna get dropped now, and it’s all your fault! You ruined my car, you ruined my LIFE, and most importantly, you ruined my GLOVES!” She just laughed it up.

Anyways, after that, GM and this chick, Denise, exchanged numbers, “Just in case her car broke down again.” Nice one, GM :stuck_out_tongue: Just remember who your teacher was. :stuck_out_tongue: Well anyways, as she was doing that, I was all “You might wanna get my number down too! I’m Jamie, the sexy friend!” She, of course wrote it down.

She asked me after that, “Hey, do you have a girlfriend?” I told her no, but she didn’t believe me at first, lol :stuck_out_tongue: She was all “I have a cute little blonde cousin who goes to school here, she’s like 19. She is totally sick of mexican people here!” (By this, she means people who speak broken english, which there are a lot of here) I was all “Ok, so she’s fine, then, right? I’ll hit it. Just hook me up! Call me some time.” With that, she left. Rad.

Now GM has a pretty fine girl’s number, and I have a potential hookup. I dunno if anything’ll happen from it, but it was a cool experience, just cos I’ve never had deja vu like that before. Maybe I’ll have GM call her this coming weekend and set something up. I wanna see where this goes, cos the whole experience was just cool for me.

The end.