Here's some shit..
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The redneck backwoods Wal-Mart is nearly desolate at the dark wee hours of morning, save for a few mullets. This particular morning, however, I entered and was face to face with about half a dozen Slip Knot listening, wrestling watching, black baggy clothes wearing, stringy-haired teenagers who appeared to be doing nothing but loitering.
I went about my toy hunting business and a few moments later these kids were destroying everything in sight... tipping stacks of boxes, pulling everything from the shelves, running, breaking, shattering. I noticed that the floor was covered with liquid.
I'm not quite sure how, but I realized that this fluid was flammable.
Heading toward the exit, I pulled out a cigarette and lit up. There appeared to be a lot more havoc than 6 or so heathen kids could possibly wreak, but I still elected to assist in the frenzied rending. As I passed through the double entrance doors, I flipped the smokey treat over my shoulder and the place went up in flames.
That's when I saw it. That little red car of questionable make and model... the distorted, jerking reflection of the fire in the windshield... and behind the wheel, my impromptu get-away driver.. my adolescent obsession, Kristian.
I got in the car..
And I woke up.
A normal 13 year old fat girl develops a crush on a jock guy or the most popular "cute" guy... I suppose this makes for more "Oh, he's so unattainable" drama. Of course, then, I found my attention drawn to a dork with nearly no friends and some crazy mad artistic talent.
I spent approximately 4 of my teenage years drooling over him... watching him.. thinking about him... waiting for him to come around. Nevermind the fact that he was raised a mormon. Nevermind the fact that he really wasn't too bright. I loved that dude and I'd have done anything for him.
Kristian's surprise visit to my odd, destructive dream was the first time he'd really entered my mind since shortly after we took a summer school class together for our final half credits. I had ended up in the class because I stopped going to school a few weeks before graduation. He was in there because he was an idiot. Also, by this time, I was no longer obsessed with him.
So of course, this is when he started to try to associate with me. He would ask me if I needed a ride home... he would bum me a smoke if I happened to be out -- and sometimes when I wasn't... he would be my partner for partner things in that absurd class... I woke up one afternoon that summer with him sitting half-naked on the couch in my living room...
It's been some years now...
and I realize that I was a bit obsessive and creepy...
and I swear to god, I'm much better now.
But I'd still fuck 'im.
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and there you go.
W3rd.
--Biggy G.
