Amy, Stacy, and I decided to have an extremely girly day. We looked at wedding dresses for Amy because she's going to marry my brother in a year. We talked about all the things people would not assume lovely ladies talk about & we smoked a lot of pot. We had to "prepare" ourselves for the entertainingly awful newest Twilight movie. In other words, we got really silly to see something really silly.
this requires, of course, vast amounts of candy to smuggle in and loudly attack later while previews play. so we go to a cvs and stand giggling and overwhelmed by the selection in the aisle. after careful consideration amidst bursts of laughing at im not sure what, we get in line with other people who we kinda feel sorry for because were laughing so much. yes we are having obnoxious amounts of fun on a monday and there's nothing you can do about it. were laughing about nothing, yet everything around us. were enjoying the moment of the 3 of us here spending our otherwise dull monday elsewhere.
i see generic peanut butter cups as we approach the cashier. apparently this sends my laughter into full barrel heaves from the gut because im so damn amused by how the generic candy is packaged. it makes no effort to pose as anything else or come up with a creative alter ego name (you know how Dr. Pepper has its wannabe imitators such as Dr. Skipper or Dr. A+...somethin like that)...it just says "Peanut Butter Cups" and then my eyes travel down to this awkward cousin of Reese's description on the front and the first thing I read is "creamy peanut." and in my high little mind I think, how funny! just creamy peanut. not creamy peanut butter. creamy peanuts. just one creamy peanut. as if it came that way, pre-creamed. and i dont know why i find it so funny, but i do. and my commotion causes stacys commotion and she looks like shes about to burst in every sense of the word cuz shes laughing and says, "Im gonna pee my pants!" and were still laughing, laughing, laughing, so much laughing. im trying to choke out a sentence to the cashier...but I dont see him. my eyes are watering so wonderfully, but I hand the cashier the cash.
but then. I hear him say, and suddenly the cashier has become a he because I am just now recognizing him and seeing him, I hear him say, "It's just like high school all over again, all the girls laughing at me..." and he says it so quietly and painfully that I know its not in good humor.
im so taken aback in that instant and all of my laughter is diffused. and I look at him and see how small he is, and yes he has terrible acne stretched across his face and some of his neck. he has a mohawk that I dont quite understand because he seems so badly to not want to be regarded. to be looked over in shock as I am looking at him now. he doesnt look at me or my friends. he doesnt look up. he doesnt speak up. and he clearly doesnt understand me either, I think. I wish my mind came up with some brilliant thing to say but my bluntness and abruptness prevents me from being poetic in this moment and I blurt out "Holy shit, I'm not that mean! We weren't laughing at you. We were laughing at...." but as Im explaining this pretty absurd story of generic peanut butter cups and how funny they are, I realize he's not believing me. he stopped listening. he gives me my change and I say, "Well now I feel like a piece of shit." Amy thanks him multiple times. and while this has killed the silliness, the laughter, it ultimately angers me.
He assumed that I would just start laughing at him. that I was that kind of person. He projected his insecurities onto me. I have enough of my own, thank you. and what a sad little man to judge me because he is so used to being judged himself. assuming the worst of everybody. he took the bounce out of our steps because hes so used to being knocked down himself. he directed our laughter into a cruel way, a way that could only be laughing at him and his unfortunate appearance. if there ever was a good example of how hurt feelings, harsh words, travel in circles this would be one of them. All I have to say is, fuck your high school.
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