10/24

Well that was...sweet (buh dun tss).

D.T. said she had to sit this one out because she wanted to have "positive connections" with all of the local Camden County bakers. I get it from a business standpoint, but from a "I-can't-stand-her" standpoint it was very easy to dismiss her and have her carve holes out of diabetes-distributing treating treats for the rest of the night. R.T. said this was at least a little better than last time at the junk yard. I'd have to agree. This was much more fun.

In the 9th grade T.M. and I were...kinda going steady. He told me I had a nice ass so I was in love with him, in love with the fact that any guy was giving me attention. I was walking M.D. to Governor's School when he stopped me. I had to go to my 5th period class, but I would've waited forever for him. He asked me, very sheepishly, if I would go to the prom with him. Keep in mind I was a freshman and he was a junior...asking me to go to junior prom with him. I kinda screamed (a rule I never violate since it takes M.D. a while to recover afterwards) and hugged him and he said great I'll pick you up next weekend.

I should've realized that it was too good to be true...for ME at the time. He's a piece of shit. But I got all ready, went to Macy's, picked out what I thought to be the prettiest pink dress. I was still a Molly Ringwald loving loser, and it wasn't until later that I realized nothing happened as cute as blowing out candles with Michael Schoeffling when you're that age. I got to his house and we took pictures and his grandparents were there, and then...he showed me this cake he made me. Pink frosting, red cake, looked absolutely divine. I was careful to only eat a little, didn't want to get anything on my dress. And then....10 minutes later, right before I climb into his truck (Camden County boys always have trucks) I have to poop. But, not in a I can hold this way....I had to poop then and there. So I run into his parents' bathroom and unload probably the last three days worth of meals. T.M. waited for a few minutes, said he didn't want to miss his friends, and sped away to CCHS.

There, wouldn't you know it, M.D. (who was a wallflower, naturally) told me he immediately started dancing with a girl in a yellow dress. I scavenged through Facebook (having Instagram back then would've been so much easier). Until I found her: Monica Sellers, and I'm not afraid to use her full name. Let the pigs find out what a see you next Thursday she was. She was T.M.'s ex, fresh ex, who wanted him back because she couldn't return the dress. So he laced the cake he made me with a laxative. I was in the M.'s bathroom all night. They were really sweet about it.

Almost perfectly, T.M. works at a bakery now. And let's just say he won't be getting off the toilet anytime soon. R.T. had a little too much fine with that one, and I actually had a good time with him. M.D. even conjured up a smirk. Next on the list...I think we're actually going to Vermont for Halloween. Jesus.

-P