I’m eating some chicken wings, and the people in the next table are getting hammered, and distracting me from enjoying my chili – lime wings cuz they’re talking louder than is necessary. Finally, they get up and start to walk out when I can just see this guys pride dissolve quicker than Diddy’s Original Da Band went from finishing the season to no longer being a band. Good job Diddy!
Homeboy is short already as it is, like Hobbit-size short, and I’m sure he’s been made fun of plenty of times in life. So pretty sure he’s self conscious about it, but can’t help it. Height is a touchy subject, especially when being called out in public by some little betty you want to impress. Confidence can go from being on top of the world to feeling like gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe who has to walk through a back alley to get home and there was a bad wind storm and trash and shit is all over the ground and it’s just raining whereever he’s stepping, in a matter of .09 seconds.
Here’s how it went down after standing up:
Girl: Oh my God.
Girl: I didn’t realize how short you were when we were sitting down?
Homeboy: (frustrated cuz he’s been trying to spit game all night has nothing to say and comes up with this) I didn’t know you were so tall…
Girl: (Drunk, making it worse) It’s a good thing I didn’t wear my heels tonight! I would have been so much taller!
Homeboy: You’re not wearing heels? (Looks down. He too is happy she isn’t wearing heels. Now just has a salty look in his face, he’s not happy bout being called out on his height)
I’m just glad that all happened to my left so I could be a part of it and turn to my right to laugh. Yeah, I felt for the guy, that was more than likely the last thing that he wants to hear from some girl he’s trying to hook up with. Poor hombre. I wonder how the rest of their night went…
Sometimes you wake up, and if you’re laying on your back, you realize you’re pitching a tent, and you didn’t even go camping. Usually it’s not too frustrating, you just tuck it up and try to get back to sleep, or you walk off the situation. BUT sometimes you have to go to the bathroom to do that numero uno.
This is frustrating, because you’re half asleep and actually have to concentrate. You have to lean all awkwardly to aim just right so you don’t piss all over the wall or the bottom of the toilet seat. Now your standing, at as close to a 90 degree angle as you can possibly get. It feels like you hadn’t gone to the bano in days, you slip up a bit and end up urinating all on the bottom of the toilet seat, get frustrated, but you have to maintain control otherwise its going to be much worse. Finally you finish, you’re relieved and your relaxed and you get back to bed, after washing your hands, no spreading of germs for this guy.
The only thing more frustrating than the numero uno with morning wood, is dropping a duecer while faced with the morning glory. So you take a seat, and realize that your little buddy is pointed straight to your face. Not where you want him to be pointing before emitting some of your bodily liquid waste. So you lean over like when your standing and this phenomenon takes place. Now, your trying to aim inside the toilet bowl, your chest basically on your knees, hoping you don’t pee out the space between the toilet bowl and the seat because then you just get it all over your calves and basketball shorts. You breath a sigh of relief because it was a success with no major predicaments, or you are pissed off because you failed, lost control peed through the space got all pissed on, or worse, you lean back on the seat buddy pops up to see you and you provide yourself with a golden shower and your day is ruined from then on. All you can do is Wipe. Flush. Wash. Repeat eventually. And in this case, shower immediately.
You can’t recover and expect to have a good day after peeing all over yourself when you’re half asleep, but guarantee you will be wide awake after that.
I stroll up to the next house I’m bout to protect, got to examine the situation and figure out how much of a pain this job is going to be. I open the door to this about 70 year old woman. I tell her my name, she says what? I repeat it, she says, she can’t hear well and turns her head exposing her hearing aid, I say it louder, she smiles. She had me the first time she said what and after her smile, I was done for.
She looked at me in a way I hadn’t been looked at in a long time, she looked at me like my first love used to in the 6th grade. The sincerity in her voice was so pure, her smile was that of pure glee and that’s what got to me. Who cares if she couldn’t hear me half the time, or that her wrinkles rivaled that of a shar pei, or that she wanted a security system because of the life line like option? Because I don’t care, for some reason this little old lady turned me on more than Kevin Lyttle could ever sing about.
Now, I’ve been attracted to older women in my life, but never this old. I knew it was wrong, could I help it? No, did I want to? YES, She was 80! It’s been long and lonely up in Canada, and I never thought I would think of an older woman like that. I felt so wrong, but I couldn’t help it! I even texted Royal, letting him know, I was having the impurest of thoughts involving this woman.
Guap- I was just having the dirtiest thought bout this little old lady
Royal – Lol what the hell? U must be in heat
Guap – She was like 70 and all I could think about was her giving me a blow job. It was the way she looked at me man
Royal – Haha. That’s hilarious
Why did she look at me like that? I was even thinking, if she wanted something to go down, I’d let it happen. It’s a win win lose situation. Win- I get some play. Win- She gets some play she probably hasn’t had in a long time. Lose – I get some 70 year old play.
All these thoughts racing through my head, I can’t even focus on the task at hand. So I leave the basement to talk to this women. Turns out she has a 2 year contract with another company, and can’t cancel without buying out her contract. My heart sinks, I’m not going to get to work on her house. Then I break the news to her. She rips my heart in two when she says, well in 2 years can you come put it in? This little betty was feeling me too. I said of course, yeah I lied to her, I’m not goin to be back in Canada in 2 years. But it made her smile. Will she remember me, hell yeah she will, this sexy ass latino technician how could she forget? Oh yeah, she’s 70. You know what, if in 2 years she wants a system I’ll come back.
She gets sad when I leave, I try not to look back as I walk down her driveway unused equipment in hand, thinking of what could have been. I can feel her watching. I turn around, and see the door close slowly. Just like that, she’s gone and out of my life. She didn’t even hear me say good bye, maybe because of of hearing aid. I get in my car, and I cannot believe the thoughts I was having about this woman. I’m going to hell for lusting over an 70 year old woman. We’re not men I’m not a man.
It is a beautiful early Saturday afternoon, and I just finished playing in a game of soccer. This was the last game of the season, so the team was having an end of season celebration. I was excited for juice boxes, orange slices, cake, and pizza. I begin eating, then something doesn’t feel right in my stomach. I try to shake it off because I don’t want to be screwed over with a shitty juice box and small pizza slices.
The aching in my stomach gets worse. I’m thinking, something needs to be done. I scour the park looking for a bathroom… I find nothing. I ask one of the parents where the closest bathroom is, they point like Babe Ruth before hitting a homer, way across the park. I see my destination. I know it’s going to be close, I better hurry. I tell my friend I’m heading to the port-o-potty.
I start walking. I start sweating. This isn’t going to be good. I start running. Running isn’t helping. I walk, ass cheeks clenched like a piranha on a gold fish. I let one slip, and immediately squeeze harder than your boy royal trying to fit in one of my baby tees.
I’m eight paces from the most highly anticipated toilet ever. I reach my hand out to grab the handle. As I grab the handle. It happens, as much as I hate to admit it, I shat myself. My silk Umbro shorts and superman briefs start to sag. My ass feels a bit warm. Something trickles down my leg, dirtying my knee high adidas socks. It smells terrible. The jonn was disgusting and my shit soaked shorts didn’t help much either.
I sat there in a portable bathroom in the middle of summer in Texas, it was probably 100 degrees. It’s hot, I’m crying. I’m sweating, I’m smelling my shorts and undies in the corner with flies flying around it. So here I am bare assed, with soccer cleats and shin guards on and a soccer jersey, on a toilet, my feet were even swinging back and forth cuz I couldn’t reach the ground. I have no clue what I’m going to do. My friends will laugh, I’ll have to walk with my ass showing. I opted for sitting, sweating, and crying in a hot bathroom. I wonder, if anyone realizes I’m gone. I start doubting that I told my friend I was going to the bathroom.
What feels like 3 hours later, there’s a knock on the door. I’m scared, shitless (no pun intended) I don’t say anything. Another knock. Finally, I hear a voice that seems angelic. It was my mom. She asks what’s wrong. I tell her I shat my pants. I can only imagine how bad my mom felt for me. She comes back with newspaper, tells me to wrap myself in it like a towel. I just want to get home.
Imagine what you’d think if you saw some 6 year old mexican went sprinting from port-o-potty to my mom’s whip in some soccer cleats and shin guards and a jersey holding the entertainment section of the paper around his waist for dear life.
One of the most humiliating times of my life. Fuck my 6 year old life, I shat myself, and didn’t get to enjoy juice boxes or pizza and ice cream.