FatKidsLie

A friend of mine works at a retail store where they sell video games. They keep the games in glass cases, and then add a sort of security lock to the little bar that the games are attached to, so that you can’t just grab a game, you have to ask for it. It’s called “Loss Prevention” and is a big part of corporate retail strategies. (The more you know….)

So some dude comes in, jimmies open the case and grabs armfuls of video games. Like when he goes to sell them at the flea market or off of a card-table in the projects anyone’s gonna doubt that they’re stolen? Or care?

Well the store security catches him and chases him into a corner. Where he proceeds to take his pants down, take a dump and smear it all over the video games, and then hold out his hands to sort of ward off the security guards.

Which worked.

Because he got away.

But not with the games.

Which had to be marked as a loss. By one of the minimum wage earning kids.

At least they didn’t just restock them…

But here’s the thing that bugs me… I can’t poop on demand like that. My BM’s are so regular that God uses them to plan sun-up and sun-down. You can synchronize Gregorian, Hebrew and Chinese calendars to my poops. But anyway, I’m thinking that this guy planned that as a backup plan. That’s what I’d do. Either that or fill a Supersoaker with piss. and leave it to ferment for a couple of days.

But that’s just me.

The year was 1990, Summer… I was a dorky looking 10 year old fatboy with a fannypack full of fake plastic frogs and snakes and bugs etc. My friend Andrew called it a “creepypack”. We all had them. It was our “thing”.

Anydangway,

She was this cute little thing, with an awesome haircut. Her big sister did it for her, half went to her sholders the other half was like… almost a buzzcut. She had green and purple streaks in it. And ALWAYS wore mismatching … well… EVERYthing. She was new wave, even though I didn’t know what new wave was then.

We became “good friends” at the barbecue after “tie dye day” at summer camp. She had some ash or smoke in her eye… i had a bottle of water and i was helping her to clean it out. That’s when her boyfriend came over and tried to pound my doughy ass into the ground. Of course she had a boyfriend. There had to be drama.

For, life without drama is CSPAN.

We went rolling down the “Heart Attack Hill” kicking and punching each other. Landed in the lake. The lake isn’t what you think it is. It is where all the latrines empty out into. It’s a septic tank. And we fell in.

She was laughing as the counselors hosed us off, stripped down. Butt-assed-nekkid. Holding our shrinkaged willies. Crying.

I never got a kiss from her. Or felt up her noboobies. Or nuthin.

I did get a black eye. And a tetanus shot. And a wart on my left middle finger.

It was a good summer.

BTW: Sorry for the absence. I’ve been otherwise detained.