William Matheson (nova_one) wrote,
William Matheson
nova_one

5. A Sherbrooke Saturday Night

I wrote this after coming home from the dance. Before I was wishing they had them every month. Now I'm glad that there won't be another one while I'm here – I've had my fill and then some.

Many schoolyard bullies I've known, now that school is over, have adopted new shticks. But not all of them have realized that school's out.


I'm too knurd to consciously break a convention, so tonight will have to be Conventional Written English. I'm sorry if that's too staid for you. No, I don't actually think you're above reading things that are conventional. The truth is that I was trying to defy conventions not only as an exercise but also to attract attention. I'm definitely an attention whore. Well. Maybe that's why that douchebag at the dance hated me.

(I've gotten over being an attention whore IRL, I think. The problem is that the alternative is my being really, really boring. I try to have no ego, and the reward for it is that everyone ignores me. I'm almost tempted to flip the switch and go back to being a braggart like I was when I was a child (at least it worked then). You know what? I'll start trying to tell stories.)

I mean, he was a total doorknob. I sat at a table with people I'd known from last summer. We get along OK. I'm not presuming that we're best buddies or that I'm a permanent part of the circle, but we're definitely well(?) acquainted. So, Mr. Boyfriend of one of the gals, why did you have to?

Tell me to “stop fucking following us around”.
Call me a pedophile.
Tell me I'm weird.
Say fuck you (and stick the finger up for good measure).
Tell me I'm stupid.
Tell me to go away.

And I'll shout to you and the person from high school who posted “You stupid fucking cunt whore, what the fuck is wrong with you?”, what the fuck is wrong with you? What the blankity blank ding dong fuck did I ever do to you? If you see me struggling out in the wilderness, with no friends, and -

yes, he did ask, “have you ever had a woman?”

if you see me flailing and struggling, you should be taking an integrative strategy and fucking helping me instead of trying to push me down further. Because, if you weren't so fucking blind, you'd see that I was friends with your friend's father, and now your friend as well, starting tonight. You'd see that I respect what you have with your girlfriend and I'm not trying to wreck it, but now that I see what an unmitigated asshole you are, maybe I should try to wreck it. She could do better!

I respect that you should be distrustful of total strangers. If you don't wanna be my best bud, that's fucking fine. I asked you later, what's your problem? All you could say was go away, go away.

I'm sorry. That you felt that cognitive dissonance and torment. Your friend defended you, “he's just really drunk.” Well, in vino veritas - if he didn't like you so much, he'd realize you were just showing your true colours. Be glad that he likes you. Get another friend that shakes you the fuck up, because you fucking need it.

I'm sorry that I went back to the well. What was I thinking? I thought this would be good for my soul. I thought I would find myself again. I didn't bargain on what I found being thoroughly unpalatable to the general public some people. Don't get me wrong, I intend to persevere. I'm just really, really disappointed.

It wasn't all bad. Some girls grabbed me and took a photo with me, exclaiming how cute I was. There were lots of Duck Dynasty jokes. I kept my eyes open, and whenever someone would stare at me, I introduced myself to them. I know I'm a stranger and that trust and respect have to be earned. Most people are rather reasonable and you can fit in with time. That's what I'll try to take away from this evening. Well, that and the image of a smoking hot Filipino gal. Okay, maybe only her. That was almost worth it.
Tags: sherbrooke 2013
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