Envy
This one is a bit confusing; on one
side going green is great for the environment, but on the other side being
green with envy will send you straight to Hell.[1]
Since I’m no Captain Planet and stories that end in Hell tend to be more
exciting, at least for the reader, I’ll stay away from describing my adventures
at the recycling plant and move right into the juicy bits:
I was 100%
completely envious of the new kid in 3rd grade.
I have a long held belief that I
peaked in the second grade. It was when I felt the coolest, sexiest, and most
popular. Sexy may not be the most accurate word for a second grader, but come
on, I was asking for it. Did you see what I was wearing?[2] I
was smart, athletic, and the majority of girls in the class were into me. I
wasn’t into them but only because girls are icky. After a while I began to enjoy
the attention of the fairer sex, although I would never say that. Who can say
the word “sex” without giggling anyway? Just when I started to like girls back,
in walks a new kid on the first day of third grade ready to screw up a good
thing. I wasn’t this jealous of any other student since Kindergarten when one
kid got to walk to school. He was always earlier than everybody else which
meant he got to play with the coolest toys. Still filled with an envious rage
over that. But this new guy, I’m going to call him Matt. I’m going to call him
that because that’s his name and I doubt he wants to remain anonymous since I’m
about to call him the coolest person the third grade has ever seen.
He was the coolest person the third grade has ever seen.
He was mysterious, good looking, and even worse for me…a really great guy. I guess we called guys in the third grade boys. He was a really great boy.[3]
Almost overnight, the girls in the class had found somebody else to chase around the playground. It was of course inevitable. I was a bit pudgy and a future bald man and he looked like a pre-scientology Tom Cruise and future, I’ll assume, millionaire with a full head of hair. Being inevitable doesn’t make it any less enraging. You’ve stolen my popularity just by walking in the door! That doesn’t say a whole lot about my popularity, and this was my peak. My peak!
He was the coolest person the third grade has ever seen.
He was mysterious, good looking, and even worse for me…a really great guy. I guess we called guys in the third grade boys. He was a really great boy.[3]
Almost overnight, the girls in the class had found somebody else to chase around the playground. It was of course inevitable. I was a bit pudgy and a future bald man and he looked like a pre-scientology Tom Cruise and future, I’ll assume, millionaire with a full head of hair. Being inevitable doesn’t make it any less enraging. You’ve stolen my popularity just by walking in the door! That doesn’t say a whole lot about my popularity, and this was my peak. My peak!
My first move of course was to
befriend Matt. This was the best way to ensure females would still hang around
my little group. I had worked hard to establish a female friendly close circle
of friends.[4]
If I couldn’t have them all to myself, I at least had to maintain proximity. I
think proximity is like, one of the top five most important things to getting a
girl to like you. Maybe the whole type five. Unfortunately the most interaction
I got after Matt’s arrival were from inquiries into Matt’s “who does he like”
status. Their notes probably didn’t need to have check boxes for “yes” or “no”
because they were going to get a “maybe.” He was mysterious, remember?
I won’t say I did anything to sabotage
Matt’s chances with the ladies but in the end I don’t think anybody ever hooked
up in the third grade. You’re welcome elementary school parents. My being jelly
bears saved the innocence of dozens of children. Until at least 5th
grade. That grade tends to get a little skanky. I blame algebra.
[1] Or
if you’re at camp, going green will send you straight to the infirmary.
[2] Jean
shorts and a basketball jersey with a white t-shirt underneath?
[3]
What happened in my life that saying the word “boy” out loud now sounds creepy?
[4]
Like writing adorable stories about chipmunks and organizing chess tournaments.
Wait? What? Why did ANYBODY hang out with me?
