Sunday, April 3, 2011

My Pathetic Life Chapter 2 (Part 3)

In February of the following year, we had both the Valentine’s Day and Ninth Grade dances and I went with the same girl, Katie. That’s when I made the awful discovery that women farted. First was at the Valentine’s Day dance, my girl and I were under the bleachers making out when a girl sitting above us let loose with a loud rip, and it made us both laugh out loud. Thankfully the girl didn’t hear us chuckling. Even though I was laughing, I was still taken back by it. In my house I would never hear my mother or my sister fart, apparently this was a secret coven between the two of them or something.
The next time this happened was after the Ninth Grade Dance, and we were at a friend’s house for an after party. Katie and I were standing out in front of the garage drinking beer, when all of a sudden this god awful noise erupted from her ass; literally lifting her dress in the process. The expression on my face must of said it all, because she immediately busted out in laughter and pointing at my shocked face. It was at this point in life I realized the women were just as disgusting as men.
During this time my mother had began selling more than weed out of our garage that was converted into her new upholstery shop. She kept all of her pot in the shop under lock and key, which presented a challenging task to overcome. I was determined to get my hangs on some of that high grade weed to take to school to smoke and impress some girls my friend Dave hooked into ditching school at lunch. So that morning of the date I made my move to breach the shop and claim some green. Slipping in to the shop was easy, climbing in through the lower exhaust vent. Once inside, I collected a bud out of each of the Mason jars that were filled to the top. When I was done I noticed that my mother’s wooden stash box was out, so I flipped it open to see what was inside. The contents were the usual; pipes, papers, small scissors, and something that looked to be very small stamped perforated paper with a couple of squares missing. Curious I ripped two more squares off, replaced the sheet into the box and began to search for something to put these paper squares into. Each square was pink with a white dove on it, and it took me almost five minutes to find a plastic baggy to put them in. Once they were put away, I quickly exited the shop and headed for school. Little did I know that I had just spent five minutes holding on to two hits of really good acid, and while holding on to the squares earlier I had absorbed a good deal of it through my skin. So half way through my first period class, algebra, the acid hit me and my desk seems to be made out of liquid. I sat there for the whole period ignoring the teacher and drawing in the liquid surface of my desk, asking my friend next to me what he knew about the squares; I was showing him with looked like to me that I had over sized clown hands. He looked at me and said, “Holy shit dude! That’s acid!” his loud whisper seemed to linger and shimmer in the air. As I let what he said settle into my tossed brain, with luck the school bell rang and I walked out of class, then out of the school for the rest of the day. Somehow, given my current condition, I managed to climb up into our glorious tree fort and well let’s say the shit I saw that day was beyond explaining. I was still feeling the effects when I came home for dinner that night at six, which made eating dinner yet another interesting experience. I barely slept that night and felt like shit the next day. Never made that date with those girls either. It would be awhile before I would touch acid again.
As the school year was drawing to a close; with the approach of ninth grade graduation; I began to have pains in my legs on a daily basis. Once summer began the pain became worse and my mother finally took me to the doctor, were it was diagnosed as growing pains and I was prescribed pain killers. I spent most of the summer lying in bed in pain, watching my feet get further and further away. I grew almost six inches over that summer and would be returning to school a lot taller than people would remember. No more short jokes.

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