I was originally going to title this piece "Ultimate Frisbee" but I thought that'd give too much away. Then again, considering the unusual titles others have... maybe not. In any case, this is supposed to be a humorous break from my otherwise depressing/self-critical, and/or sappy entries.
Two Halloweens ago, there was a BBQ held for students of
a certain class I was in
JROTC. It happened that the oldest student in the class (it was a class for all grade levels) was the one I had been crushing on for... well, a long time. Since late August, when we had started school. Present Tense Note: in case you haven't picked it up from my previous entries -regardless of their actual posting date- the guy in question is Jason Cunningham, affectionately nicknamed "Juicy Cantaloupe" by myself and cutieme4u.)
So it's in a park nearby, it's a beautiful sunny day. The guys are at one table, the girls at another. It's just the way it works, I guess. Everyone was competing to make the most hamburgers. Later, when we all got bored, but didn't want to leave, I started a game of Frisbee. A few people got playing.
Wait-- before you even THINK that I hit my crush with a Frisbee, I will tell you you're wrong. A little to the left. Yeah, I hit his best friend. On the butt. This guy just happened to be in charge of ALL of the programs in the district (Brigade Commander, natch. Not a guy to mess with)
. Plus he scared the living snot out of me. He still does, when he visits for absolutely no reason at all.
Dear god, the humiliation. I was talking about this to one of my friends today, and she cracked up. I had started inspecting a BBQ midway through my horrible throw. I happened to look at the precise *wrong* moment, and I was caught. Of course, Bullseye (the target whom was hit) glared at me in his menacing way.
Let me defend myself now by saying I deserved what humiliation I got-- I had bragged that I was an expert Frisbee thrower. Bragging = bad. But, I blame it all on the Frisbee, I brought it with the intention of "accidentally" throwing it away. It was chewed horribly on one end by my dog (his first and only chew toy) and was a hideous neon green. My crush decides to pick up the cruddy thing and not only criticizes it (I could care less) but me and my bad throwing. I was turning as green as the damned Frisbee.
What was worse, I couldn't even LOOK at Bullseye-- er, I'll call him Al. I kept seeing a neon flashing (red and white) target on his butt.
Think Ally McBeal, every time she sees someone, she reacts in a very vivid way with her imagination. i.e.: stripping someone's clothes off with invisible strings when she sees a hot guy. Yeah, and because my crush had "stood" up for Al, I started getting mad at him (a "love/hate" relationship, as cutieme4u
calls it) and was grumbling how much of a gay-ass he was. (I mean no phobia/insult by that)
Then my friend who I had told about this today cracked up even harder, imagining Al and my crush:
"Did you just touch my butt?"
"No, sir, I grabbed it."
Insulted, but laughing... yeah, I took it all in good stride and remember it humorously.
But I threw away that Frisbee the first chance I got.