[SDMBHS mode]
Gee, I’ve noticed you and thought you were really cute. But frankly I am not sure you like guys . . . and, OK, I am a little afraid of you. After all - you seem to want or need nothing from me. I know you don’t toke. I guess you would never talk to me.
[/SDMBHS mode]
This is kinda fun !
Decides to go to Swiddles’ party after all.
Spends the entire drive over mentally debating whether this is a stupid idea.
Wanders in. Grabs a Coke. Slinks over to the nearest unoccupied spot of wall and tries to look like she belongs here.
I’m pipefitter, the shy, somewhat loner of a person. To be recognized, I usually act as the class clown. Everybody enjoys making fun of me.
YIKES!!!
You sure do know how to charm a lady! For some reason I have a terrible headache… do you have any aspirin handy?
Anywhere you want to go is fine with me. I always have an great time with you!
Okay, I’ll be the token jock.
note: *=true to history, #=bullshit, just for effect.
I play football, baseball, and wrestle.*
I lettered in all three by the time I completed my sophomore year.*
I wear my letter jacket all the time, and it smells vaguely of Polo, fine tobacco (only cool jocks smoke a pipe, which is why they develop asthma when they are 21), and various perfumes.* I have way too many patches to be able to put them all on it, so I tend to give some away.*
Everyone thinks that I am a big dumb jock, with muscles for brains and a permanent hard-on.* Imagine how shocked you all are when I get a 29 on the ACT, and then take it again and get a 31, just to piss you off.*
I am one of the only 17 year-olds with tatoos, and everyone wonders what they are supposed to mean.# Nobody knows.
I never pick on anyone, but I am always getting in fights with guys that have something to prove.* A reputation for nastiness usually precedes me, and I usually end up talking my way out of conflict.#
I tend to spurn drunken bullshit bonfires with the other jocks, so I can hang out with dudes like Freak and Gawd.# They were my friends before puberty, then I grew, and they didn’t.*
Several of the cheerleaders that everyone despises have knelt to my delicate ministrations, as I am not only the “uber-jock” but also a “smarty-arty”. Chics dig sonnets, and stuff by Percy Bysshe Shelley.
I have the rough exterior and rep of being an asshole, conceited, self-centered, immature, womanizing, alpha-male prick.* But my close friends know me for who I am.*
I most recently betrayed my rep by beating the shit out of a guy at one of John Kay’s (John Kay=fictional jock, popular and well liked, dates the valedictorian, is prom king and quarterback) parties for trying to slip a ruffie to a freshman.*
I am secretly tight with the druggies, as I believe in “better sports through chemical engineering”.*
I always have a lot of money, because I provide all the other jocks with steroids.#
Even were I not popular because of sports, I would be wildly popular because my parents are rich and travel all the time, leaving me plenty of time to have people over and party.#
Hey, it’s me again. I MIGHT be at the party, then again I might not. No one would care anyhow. If I WAS at the party, I’d be the guy sitting off by himself. Actually probably not COMPLETELY by myself, just close enough to other people to make other people think I’m not a loner. I am spending the party watching people get plowed, get hit on, dancing, making out, having fun, etc. I get ticked off because I’m not part of it and no one cares (or seems to). So I leave. Then I get mad at myself for looking like an idiot and leaving halfway through the party. I go home. I watch TV.
(Seriously, folks, this is me.)
My name is Matt. Not that you’d know me.
I sit at the front of the class. Not because I’m that good a student, but so I can avoid the mean jocks in the back of the class. They like to tease me, but I never let them get close enough to me or know enough about me to beat me up.
My main occupation is keeping my yap shut.
I don’t have any friends. Like, at all. I don’t need them. I spend my recesses working in the computer lab on the Adobe Premiere project I’ll get an A-double-plus in, not that anyone will care, or in the library hiding.
I’m terrified of everybody.
I haven’t taken a shower in gym class in two years. I don’t get caught; I change as fast as possible, then run home and take it there.
When I get home, my parents aren’t there, which is fine with me because I’d have to tell them what I did in school. That would keep me from my reading or my computer. Or lying with my head under my pillow, trying to see how quietly it is possible to sob.
My name is Matt, I’m a gay high school student, and it’s anyone’s guess whether I’ll survive to get to college.
I’m Prez2032, the resident entrepreneur. I can be found checking my stocks and reading the newspaper during lunch. I’ve never been to a dance or a party with strangers, but I’m not shy. I’m rarely in class, and I miss the maximum 30 days a year allowed by the state. I get away with this because I’ve made friends with most of the teachers. I’ve got a 4.3 average and a 1420 SAT, but it doesn’t matter to me. I talk occasionally with almost everyone, but my really good friends aren’t from school. People talk about me behind my back and from time to time I get my car egged or my antenna bent. They think I’m arrogant, but the only time I have to myself is at school, so that’s where I do my personal reading and thinking. I work 35 hours a week outside school along with 5 hours volunteer work. I wish people would just leave me alone at school so I can get on with the important things…
In class I usually talk to those around me. Usually people like me, but I do sit with friends. We talk and carry on. Sometimes I correct the teacher, which annoys them, so they tell my parents they dont like it.
I usually try to be nice to everyone, even those the jocks tease or make fun of. I think most people are interesting anyway, so I like talking with them. I dont have any enemies at this school cause I dont cause stress with no one. I keep to myself. But, my sarcasm is subtle enough that i can make fun of people, yet they don’t realize it really, and I get away with things.
Girls usually love talking to me about their boyfriends. Mostly because being a bit nosy, i like to hear of their problems. So, they tell me about their problems. I think i’ve become one of the relationship counselors here at school. I also like lending an ear to someone in need.
In English, i sit near that Matt_MCL guy. He looks terrified all the time. I wonder if he could use a friend. I guess i’ll go talk to him to see what’s up. Maybe he’ll cheer up. Who knows. But I gotta try, somehow.
But, i think afterschool i’m going to go hang out with Demo for a while. Maybe Pricciar will come over too. Pricciar and I together are a dangerous combination, it should be illegal ;).
Frightening true to history. Geez. You quote ONE Indigo Girls song in English class, you wear Doc Martens, and suddenly you’re gay. That’s fine, until the rumor spreads to the lesbian clique, and you have women hitting on you (sitting on your lap, etc.) in the lunchroom. Once again, fine and dandy if you like girls, but a bit of an obsticle in your social life if you’re straight. And unfortunately for me, I am in the latter category.
Of course, one good thing comes out of the Rumor. Matt_mcl hears the Rumor and talks to me one day after class, and we become friends. I always wondered about that kid, so quiet. Huh. Seems like he needs someone to talk to.
Meanwhile, back at Swiddle’s party, the television goes off upstairs, and Swiddles frantically begins shoving people out the window, hissing “To the Quarry! To the Quarry!”
Spooje, on his way to Swiddle’s party, passes out behind the wheel. He awakes with his car wedged tightly in a row of bushes beside a house. The owner of the house is coming at me with a ball bat…
[you’re telling me. everybody thought I was weird…so I was…nobody’s perfect. I’m wishing I’d gone with you too. We’d have had fun]
amazed he’s in her car; elated he doesn’t want to go to party
To my house it is. Maybe we could order a pizza? Or are you a vegan or something? I think we have some…carrots.
grins
Just so you know…takes a deep breath…my folks are gone this weekend. I didn’t want you to be surprised or anything. If that makes you uncomfortable…
breaks a string, gets pissed at her guitar, heads to the party
is redirected to the quarry
arrives, looks awkward
Sing the following to the tune of the Notre Dame fight song. If you need the tune, click here and then click on victory march.
Ok, everybody ready?
Beer! Beer for Straight Doper High!
Bring out the whiskey, bring out the rye!
Send Ed Zotti out for gin and don’t let a sober lurker in!
We never stumble, we never fall!
We sober up on wood alcohol!
While the Doper faculity lies drunk on their homeroom floor!
Da-da-da-da-da-da-da!
::Rising slowly off the floor and helping jjjfishe up::
Anybody get the license plate on that truck? Where the heck am I and why is Swiddles shoving me out the window? Why do we have to leave? We just got here!
grem
Sorry grem. Dad turned off the TV, he can hear us now. You get here late, you takes your chances. To the Quarrymobile!
I’m sitting by my phone. The door to my bedroom is firmly closed. I’m trying to decide what I should say if I call that Doobieous guy who gave me his phone number.
Hi, Doobieous? This is Matt. …nah…
Hello, could I please speak to Doobieous? …nah…
Hey, Doob, it’s Matt. What’s up? …definitely not.
ringringringringring
Aaaaaah! I jump two feet in the air, grab the phone, answer it in a panicked voice. “Hello??!”
“Hi, it’s Doobieous. Is Matt there?”
“Uh, uh, uh, sp-speaking…”
To the Quarry! I think there some extra room in the limo, if anybody needs a ride.
grem
C’mon, Falc, Balance…actually, any ten to twelve people around will fit into my dad’s Gremlin (complete with Red Racing Stripe).
To The Quarry!