Call Me Stephen

            So remember those wild parties back in High school? You know the ones, where people drank, smoked had intercourse in the host’s parents bedroom, and on occasion ran from the local police force? You know the sweet ones like the ones in Clueless, Mean Girls, and Superbad?

            Well I don’t.

            I swear for the longest time I thought they were some made up shit to make the movies look fun. I though High School was all about going out playing sports. Or sitting at home playing board games, or made up sports. I didn’t know there were any real wild parties. I thought it was a myth like the Loch Ness Monster . . . well Nessy was real.

            I remember watching Mean Girls for the first time with my girlfriend at that time and when the party occurs, you know the one where Cady thought cheese and crackers for eight would be enough? 

Well, it wasn’t enough it wasn’t even close to being enough. That shit got wild and the whole damn school was there except for Janice, Damien, Regina, and Shane Oman. Also, I didn’t see the one broad in the wheel chair or the midget, but everyone else was there getting their freak on. As this scene progressed I turned to my girlfriend and said “This is ridiculous this kind of stuff never really happened.” She looked at me like I was insane, though she knew that I was a loser with 3 friends and I guess she wasn’t totally surprised I thought parties were a myth. “Uhh, these parties happened all the time.” She went on to talk about them, I was confused. She was a super nerd with like an 8.0 GPA (not even possible, but I’m pretty sure she accomplished it) and she was at all sorts of ragers. 

 I was pretty much the girl in the wheel chair or the midget.

            This came up again at work the other day (which is what has led to this post) and everyone said they were at these parties. Except for me I was at home eating alone like Stephen fucking Glandsberg. They were all invited to drink Natty Ice at someone’s home meanwhile me, Mike, and Travis were playing Super Smash Brothers, drinking soda pops, and eating Dominos.

Shit, I never really drank until we went to Prom Weekend which was a fun disaster. I get why I was never invited to these things. I was an asshole, I hated everyone, and I was in special classes. No one wants to invite a kid from a class where students were one head injury away from licking windows. They didn’t like me, and I didn’t like most of them.

With my ten year High School reunion upcoming this year I wonder if I will even be invited to that. Not that I’m going to go anyway. I still talk to one person regularly from my graduating class and that’s enough for me, but it will be interesting to see if I am invited to this party, until the invitation comes you can just call me Stephen fucking Glandsberg.