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Posts tagged ‘Growing Up’

A Transcript of My First Conversation on AOL 3.0

**Date: 10/24/1998**

DarkWingDuck69: hey becky
Becky13: who is this?
DarkWingDuck69: this is Eric. sup?
Becky13: how did you get my screen name?
DarkWingDuck69: i heard you mention it on the bus yesterday.
Becky13: you are on my bus?
DarkWingDuck69: yeah…i was sitting behind u
DarkWingDuck69: im always sitting behind u
Becky13: ok…
DarkWingDuck69: u didn’t answer my question!
Becky13: what question?
DarkWingDuck69: sup
Becky: oh. umm not much. you?
DarkWingDuck69: just boogie boarding the net
Becky13: what?
DarkWingDuck69: i don’t know how to surf yet lol
Becky13: im confused
DarkWingDuck69: it was a joke
DarkWingDuck69: LOLLTHITLK
Becky13: ???
DarkWingDuck69: oh you don’t know that acronym?
DarkWingDuck69: LOLLTHITLK stands for “laughing out loud like the hyenas in the lion king”
DarkWingDuck69: it’s the newest craze on AOL
Becky13: never heard of it
DarkWingDuck69: well thats probably because i just made it up like two days ago.
DarkWingDuck69: but watch its going to be HUGE
Becky13: right
DarkWingDuck69: i like your screen name. howd you think of it?
Becky13: its my name and then my age.
DarkWingDuck69: nice! i really like it. i wanted to do that too
DarkWingDuck69: but BadAss13 was already taken lol
DarkWingDuck69: hello?
DarkWingDuck69: you still there?
Becky13: yes
DarkWingDuck69: i like my screen name though
DarkWingDuck69: Dark Wing Duck is such a sweet show
DarkWingDuck69: *was
DarkWingDuck69: i used to watch it when i was a kid.
DarkWingDuck69: i mean, i still watch it, but only ironically.
Becky13: oh
DarkWingDuck69: yeah so DarkWingDuck seemed like a good choice for a sn
DarkWingDuck69: and the 69, well i don’t think I need to explain THAT
DarkWingDuck69: ;)
Becky13: I feel uncomfortable
DarkWingDuck69: ya me 2. this desk chair is killing my back!
DarkWingDuck69: LOLLTHITLK
DarkWingDuck69: hello?
DarkWingDuck69: you there?
Becky13: yes
DarkWingDuck69: i cant wait for the dance on friday. r u goin???
Becky13: I was planning on it
Becky13: but now im not so sure
DarkWingDuck69: how come?
Becky13 has signed off

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My Worst Nightmare: Ordering Pizza

When I was younger I had a profound fear of talking to strangers on the phone. I especially hated it when my parents made me order pizza for delivery. Looking back on it now, it seems silly to be afraid of such a simple task. But back then I would get incredibly nervous, and this is how I imagined the phone call would transpire:


In my living room, my family gathers around me as I dial the number of the pizza place.

(Ringing)

PIZZA GUY, who talks way too fast: Sorrento’s Pizza. What do you want?

ME: Yes…uhh…I’m calling because I’d like to make and place an order for deliverance to the house where I…umm…live.

PIZZA GUY: Hold on I’m putting you on speakerphone.

ME: Wh- Why did you do that?

PIZZA GUY: So everyone eating here can listen to this.

ME: Oh…umm…okay.

PIZZA GUY: So what do you want?

ME: I’d like to make an order for three pizzas. Well the order is not for pizzas, it’s for humans. So I guess it’s an order of pizzas for humans. Sorry for the confusion.

PIZZA GUY: Just tell me what you want.

ME: Okay, first of all, I’d like one large pizza with half cheese and half sausage.

PIZZA GUY: Large cheese pizza, half a sausage. Got it.

ME: No, I want one pizza, with half of it covered in sausage.

PIZZA GUY: Yeah.

ME: Yeah…

(Awkward silence)

PIZZA GUY: What else?

ME: I’d also like a large Hawaiian pizza.

PIZZA GUY: We don’t make those anymore.

ME (to my sister): They don’t have Hawaiian.

MY SISTER: Okay. I’ll have a cheese pizza with ham and pineapple then.

ME (to pizza guy): Okay then I’ll have a ham and pineapple pizza please.

(Audible laughter from people in the pizza place)

PIZZA GUY: We don’t have that.

ME (to my sister): No ham and pineapple.

MY SISTER: Fine. I’ll just have a steak and cheese.

ME (to pizza guy): Okay, then I’d just like a steak and cheese.

PIZZA GUY: So that’s one cheese pizza, half sausage. One large steak pizza. One large cheese pizza. Is that all?

ME: No, a steak and cheese sub.

PIZZA GUY: One cheese pizza, half sausage. One large steak pizza. One large cheese pizza. One steak and cheese sub. Anything else?

ME: No, I meant a steak and cheese sub instead of the Hawaiian pizza.

PIZZA GUY: We don’t make Hawaiian pizza.

ME: I understand that. Okay, let’s just start over-

BECKY, my biggest crush (through the speakerphone): Eric? This is Becky. Are you retarded or something? I’ve been waiting in line here to order for 5 minutes while you’ve been babbling on like an incoherent monkey. The line here is now out the door.

ME: B-Becky? I didn’t know you were there. Sorry, I’m just trying to make this order.

BECKY: Just hurry up. My brother’s blood sugar is low and I need to order a soda for him before it’s too late.

ME: Oh, man. Okay I’ll hurry up. Pizza guy, you there?

PIZZA GUY (shouting): What did you just call me? No one is allowed to call me “pizza guy” but my wife and my parole officer!

ME: Sorry. Let’s just get this over with. I’ll have three large pepperoni pizzas with extra cheese. That’s all.

PIZZA GUY: Three large poison pizzas, extra shit. Got it.

ME: Sorry, what did you say?

PIZZA GUY: Three large pepperoni pizzas, extra cheese.

MY SISTER: But Eric, I don’t want pepperoni!

ME (to my sister): Will you just shut up?

PIZZA GUY: You better watch your mouth, asshole! First you disrespect me and call me “pizza guy,” then you tell me to shut up? You’re messing with the wrong guy! You know, I think I’ll be delivering these pizzas to you myself. What’s your goddam address?

ME: Yeah, umm, I think I’d like to cancel my order.

PIZZA GUY: WHAT’S YOUR ADDRESS!

BECKY: I know where he lives. I’ll take you there. Let’s go.

PIZZA GUY: Alright, good.

(Sound of gun cocking. Voices fade as they walk away from phone)

PIZZA GUY: So, you said you’re Becky. That’s a beautiful name…

What Mrs. Davies Must Have Said In My 3rd Grade Parent-Teacher Conference

(Originally published 8/5/09)

Mr. and Mrs. Kester, thank you so much for coming. I must say, I’ve been eager to finally meet Eric’s parents. I can see by the lack of cuts and bruises on your faces that you’ve somehow developed a technique for harnessing Eric’s unusually rambunctious behavior. Did you have careers as lion tamers? What’s your secret? Tell me this: does it involve a cage of any kind? Just give me a hint.

Before we sit down, I’d like to give you a brief tour of Eric’s desk. As you can see, Eric has the organizational skills of a chimp tripping on acid. I challenge you to find even one item that is related to school work. No, those pencils don’t count. Eric considers them to be snacks. And I assure you those Victoria’s Secret catalogs are not part of our curriculum. You didn’t really give Eric those ninja throwing-stars for his birthday, did you? That’s what I thought. I’ll also assume, then, that Eric was lying when he said he uses that box labeled “fireworks” as a container for his allergy medication. Oh, I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, Mrs. Kester. Eric will use anything to blow his nose, except for, of course, tissues.

It’s surprising that Eric has been able to develop such a messy desk, considering he is almost never sitting there. See that chair over there, facing the corner? That’s where I have Eric sit most classes, where all pigtails are out of reach. I suspect the crude drawings on the wall over there are not actually the works of prehistoric caveman, as Eric suggests. The men and spears look authentic enough, but shouldn’t they be hunting a wild animal, and not a disproportionate teacher labeled “Mrs. BigButt”?

As for Eric’s academic performance, there really isn’t much to say. He almost never completes any of his assignments, unless I trick him into thinking that I don’t want him to do his work. His handwriting is poor, and often looks as if he attempted to write blindfolded with his left foot while having a seizure. His math skills are also below average, though I doubt he honestly believes the answer to every arithmetic question is “69”.

In art class, Eric draws violent pictures that, quite frankly, disturb many of his classmates. He has a vivid imagination, which is good, I just wish he would stop using it to think up exotic ways for Big Bird to die. Gym class has also been a problem area for Eric. He chooses to turn every game we play into dodgeball, which is dangerous when we are playing soccer. But that pales in comparison to the time we took the class on a bowling trip. I don’t need to go on about that, as I’m sure you’ve read all the details in the police report. Todd will finally be getting his stitches out tomorrow, by the way.

Overall, I’d say Eric has a long ways to go in just about everything. At this stage I’m just trying to get Eric to the point where he stops making his classmates and me dumberer by association.

A Letter Home from Summer Camp

(Originally published 7/19/09)

 

Dear Mom and Dad,

Hello from Camp Wakamatsu! Sorry it’s taken me so long to write, but I had a tough first week after having a run in with a bee’s nest while on a hike. The swelling has gone down a lot though, and, if I squint real hard, I can see enough out of my right eye to write you a quick letter. Don’t worry about me, though. The camp nurse is hopeful that, with a little luck, the welts will heal enough for you to recognize me when I come home.

Speaking of home, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. I know that I begged and begged you to let me go to sleep-away camp this summer, but after thinking about it a bit, I’ve decided that maybe your instinct was right and I should have stayed home. Don’t get me wrong –I’ve been having a blast at Camp Wakamatsu, just like I promised I would. I’M NOT HOMESICK. I promise. It’s just I feel guilty that you’re spending so much money on me when I would be just as happy being at home, where I don’t have to wear bug repellent to bed. Maybe it’s not too late for a refund?

I know you’ll probably tell me to stay here, that it’s important to finish what you start. If this is what you think, I’m fine with it I guess. I’ve made some real good friends here, including Counselor Gary, who can’t get enough of me! He say’s I’m his favorite camper, and he gives me a wink whenever he see’s me in the cafeteria. He’s such a nice guy, I can’t believe at the age of 40 he hasn’t found a wife yet! He says he doesn’t get lonely, though, because his Beanie Baby collection keeps him company. Counselor Gary has promised to take me on a secret hike on Friday, just me and him and the boundless wilderness. He says he knows this great spot in the forest where the Pine trees are as green as my eyes! Oh, before I forget, I’ve included in this letter a pamphlet with the local bus schedule. You’ll notice there’s one leaving here on Thursday, and that they accept all major credit cards.

The food here has been really good, especially when they actually cook the chicken and wash the fruit. I’ve gotten food poisoning only three or four times, though it’s impossible to tell if I got it from a meal or from the old well we drink out of. If the food is my favorite part of Camp Wakamatsu, then the activities are a close second. Archery is awesome, especially since they moved the targets farther away from the entrance of my bunk (after what happened to Jimmy). Swimming in the lake is super fun, and I’ve learned how to do this really cool thing called a “Sailor’s Dive”, where you jump into the water head first, with your arms by your side. Don’t worry, mom, they’ve put buoys to mark all the rocks hidden underwater, or at least the ones they’ve found so far. And Camp Wakamatsu is hiring lifeguards for next week, when the inspectors are supposed to come, so that’s good. But maybe I should hitch a ride with the inspectors when they go back to the city? It’s your call.

Love,

Eric

Transcript from the First Time I Ever Called a Girl in 6th Grade

(Originally published 2/9/09)

KATE: Hello?

ERIC: Hi, is Kate there?

KATE: This is she.

ERIC: Hi, She. Is Kate there?

KATE: I’m Kate. Who’s this?

ERIC: This is Eric. Eric Kester. I was just calling to say hi…so, what’s up?

KATE: Nothing much, you?

ERIC: Not too much, you?

KATE: Nothing…

(Silence)

KATE: You there?

ERIC: Yeah, hi. So, uhhh, lately what music have you been listening to as of late?

KATE: I got the new Third Eye Blind CD the other day. It’s pretty good.

(Silence)

ERIC: I like Sex and Candy.

KATE: Excuse me?

ERIC: Sex and Candy. Love it. Woke up to it every day this week.

KATE: Oh…

ERIC: Yeah, it’s great. Like if I have a crappy day, I’ll just go up to my room for a little Sex and Candy. Totally relaxes me. My neighbor, David, loves it too.

KATE: Umm ok….

ERIC: Actually, I think Sex and Candy might be my favorite song ever. “Marcy Playground” is a great band.

KATE: Haven’t heard of it…

ERIC: So…this weekend what are your plans for the weekend? Any plans?

KATE: I think Jess and I are gonna go to the mall for some shopping.

ERIC: I’m pretty sure that Jess hates me. She’s never forgiven me for taking her V-Card.

KATE: What?!

ERIC: Yeah, I snatched it last year. I’ve never seen a girl cry so much.

KATE: That’s horrible!

ERIC: No, she totally deserved it. She spread this nasty rumor about me, so I waited until her back was turned and BAM -I went into her bag and stole the Valentine’s Card that I made her. She was real upset.

KATE: Oh I see…

(Silence)

KATE: You there?

ERIC: Yeah…sorry. I’m just at a tough part right now.

KATE: Are you playing a video game?

ERIC: Yup, “Goldeneye”. You know in the second part of the third level when you are escaping the facility on a tank? I keep failing the mission because I’m running over too many civilians. Hold on a sec…

(Silence)

(Silence)

ERIC: Okay I beat it. So anyway, I was wondering if you, like, maybe wanted to meet up for some food or even some lunch or something?

(Silence)

ERIC: Hello?

My Speech When I Ran for 4th Grade Class President

(Originally published 10/17/08)

My fellow 4th Grade-icans, (pause for laughs)

I am not running for class president because I have a bigger baseball card collection than the other candidates, which I do, but because I am a patriot and I love my class in a totally non-cootie related way.

Our class is in the middle of a period of major suckage. We are having a financial crisis, and with the Pog market crashing we must take action to save our economy. No one expected Pogs to lose popularity so quickly, so many of us were unprepared when our thousands of Pogs became worthless. It’s a good thing that I have a bailout plan. Basically, I’ll buy up all those Pogs that no one else will buy. This will help you get some return on your investment, and I’ll have the patience to hold onto those Pogs for awhile until they regain their value. I am confident this plan will work because I know that something as sweet-awesome as Pogs will probably be wicked popular and valuable again in like 5 years when we are in high school.

Adding to our financial crisis is the fact that vending machine prices around school have been skyrocketing. Most of us can barely afford one of our most essential resources: Skittles. I have a plan to get us off foreign vending food in 10 semesters. I’m still not totally sure what that plan is, but I’ll probably need everyone to give me their allowance to make it happen. (Pull out Skittles from pockets, throw them into the cheering crowd).

There is another big issue that I feel strongly about. I am talking about a girl’s right to choose. You heard me: girls should be allowed to wear jeans if they want to. If elected, I will work with Mrs. Buttman – I mean, Mrs. Bettman – (wait for everyone to finish rolling on the floor laughing) – to get rid of our stupid dress code.

As I said before, I love our class. My commitment to our class was demonstrated, as you all know, in the epic Playground Battle of ’93 where I led the charge that reclaimed the territory between the see-saw and the tire swing from the evil 5th graders. (Pull up sleeves and flex muscles. Wait for gasps, then standing ovation.) I may have come out of that battle with a nasty scrape on my shin, but that was nothing compared to the wrath of my mom when she saw the grass stains on my pants! (Pause for laughs).

So when it’s time to vote, think about all the things I have done for our class, and all that I will do. Also think about how my opponent, Stan, throws like a girl. Keep in mind that I really understand your pain in these tough times because I am just like everyone else. I take the bus to school in the morning. I cry at night when I have to put on my headgear. My father is Joe the Plumber. So remember, you want a mature president who will represent you, and not a guy like Stan, who talks like this: (Make farting noise)

Thank you, and God Bless 4th Grade-ica! (Throw more Skittles into the audience).

If I Blogged When I Was 14 Years Old…

(Originally published 8/28/08)

“Man, sometimes I can’t believe just how far technology has come. The other day I got my very own cell phone, and it’s freaking awesome. It’s a Nokia, and it’s so small that I can basically fit it in my pocket if I’m wearing cargo pants. It’s one of those fancy “Smart Phones” that’s hooked up with all the sweetest new features: Voicemail, Speed Dial, Snake…you name it, this puppy has it. I don’t get reception within a 2-hour radius of my house, but I bet it will come in handy if I ever need to take a road trip to Rhode Island or something.

For my birthday I got this really cool thing called an “Mp3 Player”. It’s kinda like a Discman but smaller, and it doesn’t even use CD’s. And here’s the best part: it holds up to 25 songs. That’s right. 7 more songs than your average CD! An absolute steal at $300, if you ask me. And it’s so easy to download music for it. My Internet is wicked fast now, so all I have to do is use this program called “Napster” to get music. I just search for the song I want, double-click it, go to bed, and if it’s done downloading in the morning, I can just add it to my Mp3 player! I’ve already downloaded 12 songs, and I’m hoping to be at like, 30 or 40 by the end of the year. It’ll be hard choosing which songs to keep on my player!

My friend’s family is all about the latest technology, and they’ve gotten some real nice stuff lately. First, they got this unbelievable TV. The picture is literally crystal clear. I went over there the other day to watch the Patriots game, and I swear the picture was so sharp that I could easily read the numbers on the players’ jerseys like, 80% of the time. He’s hooked up some cool stuff to the TV, like a DVD player, VHS Player, and even a stereo. It’s so fancy that they need 7 different remotes to work everything.

They also got a new car. It’s one of these fancy “hybrid” cars, which means that it has both a cassette player and a CD player! I hope that one day I have a car like that. Then again, if it still costs a ridiculous $20 dollars to fill up a tank, then I think I’ll pass!”