Tuesday, May 08, 2007
the daredevil's plight to impress miss smartypants
Here's a story I wrote a while ago. If you absolutely hate it, just DON'T talk. I have no time for negativity.
The Daredevil's Plight To Impress Miss Smartypants
I couldn't see what was wrong with me.
I was popular, quite good-looking, if I do say so myself, and skilled at almost everything- football, basketball, bowling, surfing- even chess, I admit I'm good at, but no one really knows about it, except my family perhaps. You see, I'm thought of as cool in school- always slacking off and failing on all of my subjects, and I just can't go around and suddenly claim to be the biggest chess master in our school, you know what I mean? But the truth is, I'm really not THAT stupid, I mean, I'm not failing anything.I'm really smart, to tell you the truth. I'm actually quite good at studying and all that crap- I just don't show that I am. And I guess, in a way, the teachers understand, and don't say anything about the double life I tend to live. As long as I'm not failing their subject, they keep their mouths zipped.
Anyway, back to describing my almost godlike self.
Well, I really am sort of popular. And it's not just something I claim for self-empowerment and stuff like that- it's not like I need it or anything. It's just really a known fact that I am popular and can't help it.
All the boys in my grade follow me around wherever I went- pulling out chairs for me at lunch like I was some f*cking lady with posh nails on a date, carrying my books around (not that I bring much), keeping my locker neat and tidy, away from unwanted creatures or pests, and serving me lunch. I don't know how they do it, but they always know what to give me for lunch. They never fail me, those lowly people of mine.
Hah.
Of course I was kidding.
About the lowly people, I mean.
Actually, with all the attention I'm getting from the boys, at some point I kind of suspected if they were, you know, gay or something. I mean, one can't really help getting attracted to me, you know? Practically all the girls swoon over me when I pass by. It's like, they sort of fall silent as I walk through the hallway, and as soon as I make a turn, you can hear them coming together, all of them, buzzing and sighing and wishing they were my girlfriend. And I guess I'm quite flattered by all this attention they're paying me and stuff, you know what I mean? Because really, what kind of knuckle head wouldn't be glad to have all the girls at school- without even trying?
Well, I guess I am- the sort of knuckle head I was telling you about, I mean.
You know, I've got almost all the girls at the palm of my hand, all impressed about everything that I do or say and who'd practically kill someone just to get a lock of my hair to use for some African voodoo to make me fall in love with them or something.
Almost all the girls.
Almost.
I guess this goes to show how true the saying "You can't have it all" is, as hard as it may sound.
The only girl that I ever truly liked in school is the one who couldn't care less about me. I mean it, she really doesn't. I actually think she's disgusted with me or with all the girls who're in love with me or something, I don't really know. The girl wouldn't even look at me and give me the time of day!
Well,I don't know if she's just playing hard to get or whatever you call those girly strategies to win a guy over and stuff, but whatever it is, it is definitely working.
And yet, she completely ignores my greatness.
And don't even think for a second about trying to forget her and all by focusing on all those girls who want me. I tried, I really did.
I even tried dating this girl who's really pretty and has a great figure, above all, but all she ever talks about is how great I am and all that crap. I mean, seriously. You think a girl like her would talk about nothing but herself all day, but really, she drove me crazy just talking about all the things she liked about me and stuff. And by the end of the day, I almost felt disgusted about myself- but that was an almost. It really didn't happen, of course.
And when I tried to get her talking about herself for a change, all she does is tell me about her jobless father and her socialite mother, which doesn't really make any sense to me, then she goes right back to talking about me. Again.
That girl, she was just so damn clueless, and if you just let her do the talking for a minute, you'd realize it soon enough.
And maybe that was a wee bit tolerable for a few minutes, talking about nothing but me, but when I started to ask her about her favorite book, hoping to God that I'd get a smart conversation out of her, she stops talking and looks at me like I was the dumbest person alive and says: "Do I look like I read godforsaken books?".
Well I think she got really insulted by that, but what do I care? I started to walk away by then.
If there's one thing I can't stand, it's an unintelligent b*tch with a great figure.
Gets me every time.
Now that girl I was telling you about, the one that I liked, she's a real smart-ass it almost annoys me. Only because she just might possibly be better than me at studying. But nonetheless, I really like her. I like smart girls. Smart girls are always sensible to talk to. They always have something interesting to say when you're in a conversation, and when you ask a smart girl about a favorite book, I bet you they could go on forever.
So I like smart girls, but smart girls like her don't like me.
They see through me, you know? They think I'm some kind of phony, pretending to be a stupid arse when all I get are 'A's in class. But really, it's not my fault if those sick followers of mine are too stupid to realize that I'm really smart and all. They're too busy not paying attention in class to notice.
So anyway, that girl I liked, I vowed to make her like me back before the school year ends. Or at least, get her to look at me for more than, like, 5 seconds, which is the maximum amount of time she could bear look at me before she looks away (and which, by the way, I don't really get. I mean, I know I'm not THAT hideous, that's for sure).
I don't know. Girls like her kind of challenge me a bit. I'm so used to getting all the girls at school by just passing by, and I can't even get the girl I like to look at me decently. It depressed the hell out of me, really.
And believe me, for the past few weeks, I've tried almost everything- from trying to beat her at answering any question imposed by any teacher (whenever I do- get to answer a question first, I mean- she just rolls her eyes. She just rolls it and doesn't even look at me!), to- which is kind of disgusting but I had to try it- drinking milk and letting it come out of my nose (in which, upon seeing me in the act, she just raised an eyebrow at and quickly walked away). But the gang loved it. And the girls weren't even turned off by such a revolting act, they didn't. I bet they got more attracted to me, if anything. I bet they all think of me as the brave boy who tried to squirt milk from his nose and all.
I kind of hoped that, after the milk-from-the-nose business, that the girls would lay off me for a bit, if not for forever, since I'm telling you, no decent girl should be able to stand such a shameful deed such as what I did.
But of course, I just got more charming to them.
I guess love really is blind. Or something.
So anyway, trying to get this girl to notice me is turning me into the biggest idiot of the century, to tell you the truth. I used to promise myself before back when I was younger that I'll never, ever let myself be a fool for a girl that I liked. Any girl, for that matter. But I guess, we all have our dumb moments.
And this was definitely my dumbest so far.
I've turned into a complete circus act for the longest time now, and she STILL doesn't notice me. She still doesn't look at me for more than 5 seconds. Every one loves me even more now. They think I'm this god of bizarre acts or a daredevil or something. The girls prettify themselves more, and the guys- I've never seen so much eager beavers to serve me in my life. They pampered me so much that I almost felt like a girl in need of a spa treatment or something.
That was an almost.
Of course, It didn't really happen.
The guys loved me, the girls loved me, heck, even the lunch ladies loved me. They said no one had ever brought so much racket in the lunch room the way I did. They said I keep them entertained and all- which kind of freaked me out a little bit, I mean, I was quite aware about the pedophilia popularity and all that. And while everyone thinks I created the sun and the moon and was the greatest thing ever to have walked the school halls, she still doesn't care. God, it really was starting to break my heart. I've tried, and tried, and even when I think that there's nothing more to get me trying, I find something and try once again.
She never.
Until one glorious afternoon, during lunch period, this one guy who always alphabetized the books in my locker, came up to me and started this little game of dares. No truths, all dares. And since I was, according to them, the king of dares (I think I've proven myself to them enough, after all I've been through to impress the stubborn girl, who should've just paid attention to me for a few minutes to make it easier for all of us), then I should be able to do whatever dare it is that anyone else couldn't do, with my consent of course. And sure enough, it sounded like the perfect opportunity- the last straw to try to get this girl to be dazzled by my greatness, so I said yes. After all, it would've bruised my ego if I didn't.
So the game was starting to get a bit boring after awhile. The boys couldn't think up of real dares to save their own lives, so naturally, the "dared" ones accomplished the challenges with much ease, which meant no dares for me yet, and which also meant 'no moment to impress the girl'-yet.
But then, this darn clueless girl I told you about earlier, the one who doesn't read 'godforsaken books', began to speak up. And she began to dare this nerd-o-rama, who has been a quiet spectator since the game started, to put his damned foot in his mouth- with the shoe on. For 5 minutes.
God, that girl really knows how to surprise you sometimes.
So anyway, everyone got all worked up by this dare, and most of the boys started betting if the nerd would cry out of the pressure and leave his unfinished mac & cheese on his lunch table, or if he would just go through the dare and do it, his drool dripping down his polished leather shoes with gum stuck on its sole. Of course, this was really unlikely, for him to go through the dare I mean, so almost everyone betted against him. I actually kind of thought that he really would at least try to do the dare, I mean, we were kids. things as silly as this dare wouldn't stop us from proving ourselves worthy or whatever.
And, as expected, nobody was trying to make an effort to be encouraging, but boy, did it challenge the heck out of the nerd, and with one heavy sigh, he grabbed his right foot and started to put it near his mouth.
Everyone gasped, and no one could even muster to say "Pay up!" to those who decided to root for him, just for the heck of it. They were all staring at this incredibly disgusting feat he was in the process of doing. Even the girl I like was staring at him intently, and of course I was furious. I mean, how could a nerd like him get her attention like that? I mean, what was wrong with the world anyway?
Yes, so back to the story. The nerd lowered his mouth, opened wide, to welcome his shiny, black shoe. God, this was pathetic. I can't believe he's actually going to-
But alas, he couldn't reach his foot.
What a charming ending to this tale, if this was to be the ending. But it isn't.
I should have known that he wasn't flexible enough to let his foot reach his mouth. Well, all he ever does is study. How could one develop flexibility by doing just that?
But all my other thoughts were interrupted when I hear my name- being cheered out loud by all the others in the lunch room. Oh God, how can I forget? I was supposed to do the dare because the f*cking nerd wasn't f*cking flexible enough.
But of course, I said yes.
And this just might be the perfect opportunity to win the girl! Well, technically not win her but get me to look at her. So even if I have to do this and might end up at the hospital after for sucking out a terribly bacteria-infested shoe sole, it might actually be worth it.
So I braced myself for the event. I was damn sure I was flexible enough for this- after all, a sports chap is what I am. There's no way I won't be able to do this dare. there is just no way.
I quickly checked my right shoe if I stepped on any dung or anything equally disgusting this morning. My shoe seemed safe enough for sucking.
So everyone was cheering on me, and I can swear that no one even dared to bet against me. I rolled up my sleeves slowly for effect- you know, just to intensify the already intense moment, and began to rubbed my hands together while searching for the girl I couldn't impress, it almost killed me.
She was looking at me, alright. Though I can't really say it was a positive, encouraging look. It was more like a 'you're-going-to-do-that?' look, but to hell with it. It was STILL a look. And that was all it took to make me do it for sure.
I shook my head and bent down a bit to be able to reach my foot easier. I began to raise my foot wearing my handsome suede shoes, lowered my mouth, and went through it.
God, I can't believe went through it.
My shoe tastes awfully bitter. And salty at the same time.
And I'm ruining it with my drool, my handsome suede shoes.
This is definitely not my best plan ever.
And I thought they would all gasp in surprise as they did when the nerd 'attempted' to put his foot in his mouth.
But everyone was just surprised that my mouth was big enough to house the entire front of my shoe, more than they were surprised that I actually did it.
I was disappointed, yes, but not as disappointed as I am when I think about my favorite shoes being chucked out of the house. How could I possibly use it with drool all over it anyway?
All was silent for five long minutes. The suede material sort of absorbed the drool that should be spilling on the floor right now, and I was quite thankful for it saved me a little embarrassment, but I didn't really care all that much. All I wanted to know is if the smart girl who has made me into a momentary fool didn't walk out it horror or distaste. After all, I was doing this for her.
I searched for her face for a while until I saw her, now near me, with eyebrows raised and mouth curled into an open smile. She was looking at me. She was looking straight into my eyes, and I wanted to laugh and cry and scream and jump for joy, except that I was supposed to be devouring this handsome shoe for quite a while.
I got all tingly and jittery inside. I felt a sense of accomplishment- something I have never felt even after those feats I have done before.
Finally, I did it!
After all the other things that I've tried that embarrassed the hell out of me, I did it!
Well, maybe she doesn't really like me at this point yet, but I will make her. Soon enough, I will.
However, all my random musings about the girl that I liked was suddenly wiped out when the crowd countdown reached 5... 4... 3... 2... 1... 0!
It finally ended.
Everyone screamed and cheered like a madman as I dropped my leg and massaged my aching jaw. Five long minutes and my whole mouth tasted like our shoe cabinet at home. But really I didn't care. I got the girl!
Well, technically, I didn't, but at least it's one step forward!
Suddenly, all the silliness of the dare, you know, putting your foot in your mouth for five minutes, seemed to wear off. I found out that it was, indeed all worth it. I got so many things from that day- victory, respect, dignity, regard, and the girl. Not to mention bacterial infection, but it's no serious matter.
I know I'm up for the next challenge- getting the girl to like me, once and for all. We've got so many things to talk about, from books to annoying reality TV shows, to this day. We'll look back on this day and laugh about the silly measures I have gone to make her finally realize my inborn greatness. We'll play football and basketball and chess, and I'll defeat her at every single game, maybe with the exception of chess, because smart girls are smart chess players. I know that I'll get to do these things with her someday, and I never regretted that moment when I put my foot into my large, infected mouth.
But God knows how many tubes of toothpaste I consumed just to wash the suede taste out after that.
Still, my saliva just never tasted the same way again.
The End.
Cheers.
Devious and Twisted,
Therese
P.S.- I repeat, please don't tell me what a terrible story this is, or that I don't have a plot, or whatever. I have no time for negativity. Thank you.
killed a random reader @ 7:09 PM
