3:04 p.m. - 2004-07-01
secrets in the Volvo
Oh yes. I forgot to mention one other thing that happened yesterday. So Bob picks me up at home, which I went to early, because our computers were down...I worked from home for a bit, then chalked up some comp time to take a nap. That was lovely, except that just as I was about to drift off someone next door decided to mow the lawn right outside my window. I irritably shut the window and now it won't open. My room is now too warm from my liking. Oh well.
So, anyway, Bob picked me up and we start driving and I hear this noise that sounds kind of like when you have a volleyball in your trunk and you go over a bump. I say "What is that?" to Bob. He smiles in that innocent but not innocent way. Suddenly, there is a great commotion in the "trunk"...Bob has one of those trunks that connect to the back of the car...and eventually, Renea emerges and climbs into the back seat, slightly breathless and looking quite adorable in a great layered shirt combo. How bizarre. Of course it was quite pleasant to have her join us for Spiderman...but..I don't know....what if I would have been saying nasty things about her, like I usually do as soon as I get in the car with Bob? Maybe that's what they were trying to do...catch me in the act.
i once had that happen to me for real. My best friend from high school, Spags, who lived next door to me was not always my friend. For the first couple of years that I lived there, she baby sat me and then after that, she was MUCH too cool to be my friend (She was two grades ahead of me.) Once day, she mysteriously invited me over to play and I was ecstatic, as 11 year olds are wont to do when cool 14 year olds want to have you over after school. She lured me up to her room and basically baited me into talkin' smack about our other neightbor, Jamie. I didn't really NOT like Jamie, but when you're 11 and the most important thing in the world is being cooler, you'll say just about anything you think your 14 year old neighbor wants you to say. So, long story short, Spags, then known as Jen, was TAPE RECORDING me...the recorder stashed slyly under the bed. Hours later, after I had happily skipped home, thinking I was well on the road to popularity...I got a call from Jamie, who casually asked me what I had done that afternoon. I wasn't smart enough to find this strange, even though neither Spags, nor Jamie were known to call me regularly...I chatted with her, feeling a little uncomfortable about having said some less than pleasant things about her...and basically at the end of it, I was caught in not only having said the evil gossip about her, but also having "acted like I liked her" when she called...tightening the noose of middle school justice firmly around my neck. It stayed for two years. Fast forward fifteen years....Spags and I are the best of friends; she lives near LA and is in a band. We keep in touch weekly via phone and email and we haven't talked to Jamie in about 10 years. I heard she works at the local Giant Eagle or something.
So...Bob and Renea...I know how these little games turn out. One of you is going to be a musician in California and one of you will be working at a grocery store.
