I figured a good post would be one about how I embarrassed myself in front of the entire student body. I don’t know why, but I am in the mood to laugh. Let’s make it a game, tell me which parts you think are true and which parts are creative license, let’s go.
So, picture this, it’s my sophomore year and I am NOT the most popular person in the world. More like the person, people remember because of this or that awkward situation. (I had plenty in high school). So, anyway I was feeling myself this day because we’d not only killed it in choir practice, but I was able to get away with reading two books without getting called on by my teachers.
Why they felt the need to point out my reading obsession, and how IF I did whatever-it-is in their class with the same focus I’d be making ‘A’s’; I will never know. Like, no woman I don’t want to do the math! It’s just not me!
Moving on, so I was feeling myself and the final bell rung and with all the typical explosion of euphoria, people ran to get out of the square cut, institution pipeline to prison school. I rushed out because we had rehearsals or whatever and as I go out I see him.
“Him” will be his name as I cannot for the life of me remember what his real name was. Anyway. “him” spots me and is like. “Yo, do you want a ride?”
Now I can’t quite remember why he offered, aside from the dimple in his left cheek, dark luscious skin and white teeth; your owl wasn’t really sure about anything else. So, I said no.
Don’t look at me like that! I was young, unsure of a lot of things and my house was across the street. So, I started walking backward waving and ish, and I’m all, “No, it’s cool I can walk.”
And he is, “Are you sure?”
And I am sure because I can’t know what to do with the chocolate god. I was only a sophomore in high school. Do you feed it? Wash it? What do you do with a God people?!
I keep moving backward, and boom!
I. Saw. The. Sky. Spin.
I had flipped backward over a fire hydrant.
Right, in front of everybody.
The laughter. The cries of laughter were horrific. I recall staying down, in hopes that either they or I, would disappear into smoke.
Sadly, none of this happened and I was offered help by a chocolate prince. I arose gracefully and was helped (awkwardly) to where I needed to cross the street. I returned home with wounded pride, and grass stains on my backpack.
Now! Tell me, what’s true and what’s my embellishments?