Ah, here's one now...
AJ (not his real name) and I didn't hang around much together in high school, but sometime after I graduated, we went on a few double dates. He had a cute girlfriend who was terminally stuck on herself, and I wondered why he was with her, then I realized, duh, she's cute. This was years before I met Duane and saw what this sort of relationship did to guys in the advanced stages of the pathology.
One night AJ and I went to Rocky Horror with a bunch of friends. He and I drove our respective cars with everyone piled in. I think there were nine of us total. RHPS played across the lake from where we lived, so it was about 30 miles away and was always an event since we weren't used to staying out late much at that point in our adolescence.
As is the tradition, Rocky started a midnight, so it was nearly 2am when it let out. I don't remember what time of year this was, but while it wasn't especially chilly when we went into the show, a cold front had come in across the lake, and it was freezing by the time we came out. We had been considering going into the Quarter afterward since we were only about fifteen minutes from New Orleans and besides, what else was open at 2am? The cold, however, made us rethink things.
"Wait," AJ said. "I've got some clothes you can borrow." He drove a little Geo Tracker at the time, so this was like Jesus with the fish and loaves. He pulled tons of clothes out of every nook and cranny in that car and fitted us with sweatshirts and sweaters and hats and scarves and I don't even remember what all. In short, he saved the night, and we were able to continue having fun.
That's the kind of guy AJ was; he was just a nice guy who didn't attract a lot of attention. He probably lived out of his car almost as much as he slept in his bed at home. I think I ran into him again a couple times after I started college, but he was just commuting and wasn't on campus all that much.
He's married to a cute girl, but not the one I wasn't so crazy about, and he has a kid or two. He's doing computer graphics stuff and plays entirely too many games to find time for a haircut.
You don't know me, but on behalf of all the guys who have followed their dicks into relationships with snotty little bitches, you need to slap the fuck out of me if you ever encounter me on the street. If you don't believe me, call Duane. Please do this for the sake of every male who's made the same mistake.
|Back to the index|