Happy Birthday to me! Or, not.
So, in school, I had one or two friends each year that I hung out with, but it never seemed to extend into the next year for one reason or another that I simply can’t remember. Probably due to something with my family drama, etc. This particular year I was friends with Matt. Matt was the coolest kid I knew. He didn’t get free school lunch, but still hung out with me, even though I did. He was the tallest kid in class, and was the first kid I knew that had to start wearing deodorant, at his mom’s request. We hung out nearly every day and it was awesome. Matt and I originated some things that at the time seemed pretty epic. Such as, turning an english muffin half into a microwaved personal pizza, and microwaving Lebanon bologna to make it taste sort of like really good pepperoni. We shared a lot of awesome stuff too. He was Smart, like Really smart, possibly smarter than me, and I don’t say those words lightly. He had a computer from the 80s, probably a TSR80 that took a modem inserted into the side for speech out of a Star Trek game. We would also do some beginner programming on it, basically making the modem call his little sister names. He could touch type where as I at the time was only a hunt and peck typist.
He was also into model rockets, which for me, while cool were no where near as cool as crushing all of the engine modules for the fuel and then lighting that entire pile on fire in one big conflagration. I lost my eyebrows and severely burned my hand that day. We’d run around trying to be ninjas and all kinds of stuff. We even shared the misfortune of seeing a live on TV suicide by then State Treasurer Budd Dwyer. Imagine this scenario: you and your best friend are eating microwaved Lebanon bologna sandwiches in front of the 12 o’clock news, your friends grandma is in the background “overseeing”, as grandmas do. News comes on, blah blah, we both liked news, then this guy comes out to a podium to give some sort of speech, but he’s carrying a smallish manilla envelope. Cameras are rolling, people are talking then Blam, person on tv pulls out a revolver, stuffs it in their mouth and blows out the back of their head. Yep, there’s a memory shared.
So, after this we sort of didn’t hang out much, as we were both pretty traumatized, but we still hung out around school. So, my birthday rolls around, I’m likely 15 by this point, simply based on the suicide record date via the news station.
My birthday rolled around, and against better judgement I allowed myself to get excited. This year, I was not only promised a store cake, I was also allowed to invite a friend, in addition to the normal obligatory brothers/cousins/neighbors. I of course chose Matt, because he was awesome, and if worse came to worse, we could spend time destroying my younger brother’s G.I. Joe figures. Birthday party gets here and lo and behold I Do have a store cake! I was so excited, it was one of the “fancy sheet cakes” the kind that actually has your name written on it in icing and the odd white frosting that is supposed to be buttercream but it’s made with some sort of off-brand shortening stuff that always leaves an oily film on your tongue, but it didn’t matter, I had a cake!. So Matt shows up and presents me with the usual birthday card, picked out by parental figure, dollar or two stuffed in it, forced to be signed by him, to make it “thoughtful”. I smile, happily rip open the envelope toss the card aside and begin to survey my newfound wealth. Holy Shit! it’s 52 dollars! I think I literally squealed, danced around, possibly wet myself a little and Almost (but not quite) hugged my friend. I look at him, just completely overwhelmed and he just plays it off like “Yeah, my nan really likes you”. At this point, we haul ass. We ditch my birthday party and we head into town to spend my money. I totally roll deep the toy section and I just start grabbing shit. Being me, I don’t play with toys, like at all, but my younger brother does. So, I get him a G.I. Joe vehicle of some odd sort. I also got him this cool color changing G.I. Joe bad guy (Hell Yeah Zartan). Needless to say, I blew 50 bucks pretty fast.
Well, we roll back to the house, and I see his nan sitting there with my parents and I just know that shit is going to go downhill from here. As it turned out, Nan had intended on giving me 3 dollars, Not 52, and had grabbed the 50 by mistake and now wanted it back. My parents, being my parents, simply aren’t going to give anyone 50 bucks, whether they actually had it or not. So, I’m of course expected to return all of the stuff I’d bought and get the money back. Only thing is, I’d happily ripped Every last toy open. I may not play with toys, but I sure do love opening up the packages. So, with no toys to be returned, no money to be reimbursed, and no real way of fixing this situation, there ended my birthday (and all future birthdays), as well as my friendship with Matt. So, yeah, I can’t even have a birthday success it seems.
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