Take a look inside the Book of Forbidden Fruit, if you dare.
But, young lad, can you handle what you may find in there?
Mojo. True story: I once had it out the wazoo. You may recall just a few days ago I #HumbleBragged about one of my hot-n-heavy girlfriends from first grade. Yeah, that’s right I said one of them. There were multiple, if you didn’t pick up on that.
I forgive you if your immediate reaction is, “What the heck happened?!?”
Well, first, thanks for being so intimately interested in my life. And second, are you okay if I don’t exactly answer that question, but kinda do?
*Pauses for the consent of the Dear Reader*
Okay, I didn’t hear you say “no”, so I’ll take that as a “yes!”1Well, this is problematic. Consent granted!
Yessiree, Bob, I was indeed a stud muffin all the way up through second grade. Then third grade hit, and that’s when I moved from sleepy little Richfield, KS to the thriving metropolis of Springfield, MO.
Now, my new school, the fabled Christian Schools of Springfield, was actually about the same size as my school in Kansas, so in this case size truly didn’t matter. My theory is that my Kansas rad-itude must have just not translated too well to the muggy, humid atmosphere in Missouri.
However, still having the confidence of a hot dude, I thought myself to be all that and a bag of chips. Alas! Over the course of my third grade year, this metamorphosized into cockiness unbeknownst to me. Problem was, no one bothered to tell me.
Now, for most of that year, I had been pining after the cutest girl in my class, Andrea B., though my affection never seemed to be quite requited. But late in the spring of that year, my luck2I didn’t say good luck. You just assumed that’s what I meant. was about to change.
It so happened that the church I went to, the fabled Baptist Temple, was across the street from the CSOS grade school building and used the classrooms for Sunday School. Ever being the rascal that I was, about once a month or so, myself and another like-minded classmate/churchmate would stay in the building after Sunday School was over, and we would break into our classroom and pillage our teacher’s candy supply.
One of these times, I got a little too comfortable in my crimality and decided to poke around my classmates’ desks. Lo & behold, what did I find? A diary with Andrea’s name on it…SCORE!
There was a page in there where she had written down the name of everyone in our class, along with a short, very private sentence stating how she really felt about them. Oh, boy that was an interesting read!
Then I got down to my name: “Can be a real jerk sometimes!”
That wasn’t true! I wasn’t a jerk! What a jerk thing of her to say!
Oh, but the knife wasn’t done being plunged into my heart just yet. I could clearly see where she had erased what she had wrote at first: “Kinda cute. I think I might like him <3.”
Not gonna lie, that cut straight to the bone. Apparently my first impressions weren’t my problem. It’s the whole “getting to know me” part that seems to be sabotaging my relationships…
Well, one would think that this would have been a sobering experience for me, and that I would have lived a life on the straight and narrow from there on out. But, hey, where would the fun be in that?
What did I do with this newfound trove of forbidden knowledge? A few days later I thought it would be a GREAT idea to tell all the other boys at the lunch table all the little juicy nuggets I had uncovered in her diary. Well within earshot of her, too boot!
It wasn’t long before she realized what I was up to and immediately stormed over in a whirlwind of angry tears.
“And you wonder why I think your such a jerk!”
As she stomped off still sobbing, she left me standing there, completely stunned.
Holy shit, I really was a huge jerk. And what a meta way to find out such an ugly self-truth. Touche´, Universe, touche´.
And that, Kids, is sorta-kinda how I lost my mojo…
Content belatedly created on: 18/19 February 2021 (Thurs/Fri)
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