Stop Hitting on Me Wouldja?

You’re embarrassing yourself.  Really.  Can’t we just have a normal conversation without you verbally caressing my nut-sack?  Don’t get me wrong, I love my nuts rubbed just as much as the next guy, but that job is already staffed, and I’m not looking to outsource.  Not to you, anyway.

Oh, excuse me.  Hello!  I didn’t see you all standing there.  Welcome back from Thanksgiving break my fellow blogosphere-weenies.  I hope you return well fed, I know I did.

I apologize that you had to be present for that conversation above, it’s really quite embarrassing.  Well, not for me.  I mean, luckily you only had to see my thoughts, you didn’t have to be exposed to the actual conversation(s).

The word that comes to mind when thinking about the conversation(s) is pedantic.  Why?  I dunno, it’s just the word that popped into my mind.  Other things that also popped into my mind during the conversation(s) were:

  • Stop being so boring
  • Why are you trying to show off?
  • How did I get myself into this?
  • Cash bars are the dumbest things ever.
  • What time I should head home on Sunday, I heard the weather was going to be bad.
  • Hmm I wonder if a new episode of Fringe on this week.
  • I love that show, too bad it’s on at the same time as the Mentalist.
  • I’m not gay, but even I think that Simon Baker is hot.
  • Hmm the chick on that show is pretty hot too… in a mean cop kind of way.  I like that.
  • Why does my ass itch so much?  I think it’s this new underwear.  Argh!

Oh, I’m sorry, what did you just say?  It’s uhhh so loud in here I had uhhh trouble hearing you…. yeah. That’s it.

I think I’m confusing you, maybe I should just start from the beginning.

So, you may or may not know this, but over the Thanksgiving holiday I attended my 15 year high school reunion.

It was scheduled for Friday evening at the local zoologically named conference center.  My date was my bff from junior high.  He prefers to remain anonymous, so let’s just refer to him as ABFF.

Anyway, we decided to show up about as early as we could, because as he said “the earlier we get there, the earlier we can leave.”  Why leave early?  Well, several reasons, but the most prominent being the reunion schedule – which was as follows:

6:30-7:30pm: Cocktail Hour

7:30-8:30pm: Dinner

8:30-11:30pm: Dancing

Since there was no way in hell that we were going to slow dance together, we decided it was in our best interest to get the hell out of Dodge when the dancing began.  We’ll touch more on this later.

We get there just a couple minutes late, and head up into the ballroom.  As we walk in, we realize that we don’t recognize a single person.  Hmmm, this could be interesting.

And then it started.

While standing in line at registration – the girl in front of us turns around.

“ToBlogOr! Hi! How are you?  Great to see you!  You look great!”  Hugs all around.

At registration:

“ToBlogOr! Wow, I can’t believe how GREAT you look!” Hug hug hug hug.

While walking around the ballroom:

“Oh my god.  ToBlogOr, is that you?  You look fantastic! You really filled out! Wow!” Hughughughughughughughughugassgrabhughughughug

And on and on and on.

Yes yes, thank you thank you.  Yes we’ve all grown up a bit since high school, haven’t we?  Nice to see you too.  So what are you doing with yourself?  Oh you still live around here?  That’s great.  Divorced? I’m sorry to hear that.  Oh yes, I work out.  Thank you.  No, I live down in DC.  Yep, I’m here until Sunday.  Oh, sorry I already have plans for the rest of the holiday.  Maybe next time.

Multiply that conversation by about 20.  In high school I was never this popular.  Of course, in high school I made Erkel look like he was on steroids.

Stop Hitting on Me Wouldja? 

The thing is, I didn’t come to the reunion to get a date.  I was there to find out how people were doing, and to get plenty of blog material.  Instead, I had to keep forcibly removing fellow high school classmates lips from my boys. 

I’m not telling you this story to gloat.  No, if I wanted to gloat I would be telling you about the results of the reproductive organ dimension competition.

No, I’m telling you this because I’m sad.  Sad that people haven’t moved on.  Sad that so many of my former classmates are stuck in the same little crappy small town where they grew up.  Sad that they haven’t branched out and explored the world.  Sad that their dating pool is still our high school class.

I was only briefly sad though. 

At least my balls were well buffed.

—————————————————-

Coming tomorrow: “Hair, Hair Everywhere!”

on our continuing saga:

Bowling for Baldness:

The ToBlogOr Reunion Story

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10 responses to “Stop Hitting on Me Wouldja?

  1. You feel sad, I feel smug. I guss you win at being a better person.

    Or I’m a better liar than you 😉

  2. Was ABFF your silent sidekick? Does he still live in lovely small-town PA? Were his opinions the same as yours? really, you can’t leave us hanging like this!

    I knew, once I learned that most of the girls my year from the cheerleading squad had kids before I finished undergrad, that I was in no rush to go to any reunion or be unusually sociable when I’m home.

    Haha that’s why he’s ABFF! He wasn’t so silent, he doesn’t live there anymore, and his opinions were exactly the same! Well, you’ll find out more about that later in the week 😉

  3. Don’t be sad for them. They’re probably happy. Ignorance is bliss.

    Hahaha true. Very true.

  4. We’re on the same wavelength, I just posted my take on my HS reunion:

    http://zen-denizen.blogspot.com/2008/12/believe-it-or-not-theres-life-after.html

    Awesome! Off to read it now

  5. Ah, itchy underwear. The downfall of every man trying to make a good impression.

    Tell me about it. It’s hard to hit on a chick properly when you gotta bad itch under a ball.

  6. You sound like you were just as awkward as I was in high school..

    At least we grew out of it 😉 Sounds like some of your classmates reverted

    Yay for growing up. I wasn’t awkward. I was beaten up by awkward 😉

  7. I didn’t go to my 10 year reunion. Mostly because I am still friends with all the same people I was friends with in HS. So I figured did I need to pay $80 to spend yet another night with those clown? No.

    Yeah, I get that. $60 is a steep price to pay to get good blog material

  8. I refuse reunions.

    Awwww see, that’s no fun. It’s better to go and bitch later, then not have the chance to bitch at all. Right?

  9. I think your ass was itching because you caught the hives from Arjewtino. It’s very possible. It happened to me.

    Yeah, that fucker is contagious.

  10. you are such a dick.

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