There’s one thing that really bothers me about my town. The fact that, as soon as I get out and away from all the assholes that blighted my life for six years plus, I see them more and more as they spend their townie lives working as “landscaper” (ie cutting someone with a life’s grass). And, as I see them, they talk to me.
What makes these people want to talk to me? Hell, I don’t even remember most of the dumb fucks that I spent Hell with. And, more importantly, I don’t WANT to know them. I don’t care who they were, I probably hated them. Stupid fucks.
One day, my sister and I go into the local Blockbuster to see if there are any good movies to rent. We grab some stuff that looks promising and I go up to the counter to pay. It’s about 9PM and I don’t want to talk to anyone, I just want to get home. The guy at the register is going through the movies and, after bagging and scanning them. He begins to ask how things are going. Whatever, he’s just being nice. Then he asks where I’m going to college and what I’m majoring and stuff like that. At the point that he’s rattling off stupid things he’s been doing (sitting on his ass at Blockbuster being the highlight) I finally just nod, say “Whatever. I don’t even know who the fuck you are,” and walk out.
We walk out and away from the now mad Blockbuster life-worker and my sister asks if I knew that that was a kid that went to NWR with me. I tell her I’ve never seen him in my life. The rest of my night is ruined from that inane conversation with the townie loser.
And still people ask my little sister, who still goes to NWR, to say hi to me or whatever. It wouldn’t be so bad if I had ANY CONTACT WITH THESE PEOPLE at all. Most these people I would have spit on if given the chance, and some are on my list to send to labor camps when I take over the world. Yet they insist on forging some sort of gay-ass bond with me because we come from the same high school.
I don’t want to talk to any of these people. All they are trying to do is give their useless, monotonous lives some boost by having the warm feeling that they are remembered or some other dumb, FREINDS inspired bullshit. You know what, mother fucker? I do remember you. I remember that you’re a dumb fuck. And I realize you’re still the dumb fuck that I remember. Go drink beer and kick you’re dog and leave me the fuck alone. Mostly I don’t remember any of these people, and if I did, that means they crossed me and will end up in a aforementioned concentration camp.
Just because we went to the same high school/college/brothel/bar/abduction doesn’t mean I have to like you or be nice to you. In fact, if I had a shotgun, I’d end you’re life. If you’re working in my town while colleges are in session, that usually points to the fact that there wasn’t much for you to live for anyway. I’ll shed no tear if you miss the next episode of The Amazing Race.
Author: =][= Morok
Email: evilcanofjoy@kidsloveguns.com
