Wednesday, May 29, 2013

The Midget Saga - Part 1

*WARNING* This blog will involve many terms and jokes that are not politically correct.  Reader discretion is advised.  

I've promised a lot of you that I would share my Midget stories on my blog, and it's been surprisingly hard to get my head back to where I was back then.  Well, I've managed to get the beginning out, so be sure to check back for more, but for now, here it goes.

I will first introduce you to the characters and the setting in which these events took place.  After breaking up with a very long-term boyfriend, I reconnected with an old friend from college, whom I shall refer to as Karen.  I had a brief stint with my previous boyfriend, who had a ton of baby mama drama.  I was on and off with a friend of Karen's, and my flirtacious conversations with him had driven my ex-, who had been living in the study, to move out in a matter of hours.  His vacancy was quickly filled by Karen, who became my new best friend immediately.  We were practically inseparable, so much so that when she started dating a man I shall refer to as The Beast, he recognized that he had to treat both of us to dinner.  

She dragged me into kenpo, where I met a host of other characters, including her boss, whom we'll call Manimal, and a young man whom we'll call Eager Beaver.  Manimal was a brown belt, and gave Karen and I private lessons from time to time (no sexual innuendos intended here, he gave us legit kenpo practice).  I don't know if I said more than 4 words to Eager Beaver, but he very clearly had a little crush on me.  I assumed he was 15 or 16.  Little did I know he was legal.  

Our story begins on a fateful night just a few days before Valentine's Day. Karen and I joined a bunch of the kenpo students to celebrate Manimal's and Eager Beaver's black belts.  It was a big deal, and we had every intention of getting them wasted in celebration.  Well, we succeeded with Manimal, at least, because he ended up molesting me a number of times, including, but not limited to, sticking his hands down the back of my pants and sticking his hands down the front of my shirt.  In the meanwhile, Eager Beaver and his friend, who is a real, live little person, were hitting on me.  It was kind of like a group effort, and was the strangest thing I thought I'd ever see. 

We called him The Midget thereafter, so I will also refer to him as The Midget here.  Eager Beaver was becoming a little possessive of me, but The Midget was a smooth talker and kept the communication and the jokes going.  So The Midget would reach across the table and touch my hand, and Eager Beaver would put his arm around me protectively, saying, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's my girl, I mean…"  So awkward!  It was a few days before Valentine's Day, so naturally, The Midget and Eager Beaver asked me what I was doing.  I was single, of course, so I told them so, and that I had no plans.  The Beast and Karen had something extravagant planned, and I knew that I couldn't tag along on that particular date.  So when Eager Beaver and The Midget offered to take me out, I was so beside myself, I just agreed. 

Of course, we had some great jokes as a result of this.  For example, "You're so lucky, you have one and a half dates for Valentine's Day!" and "If it starts to get awkward, you could always make small talk."  Let's not forget, "It's the little things that count," and "I hope your Valentine's Day measures up to what you deserve."  

The Valentine's date started off about as normal as you could expect a one-and-a-half-dates date to start.  Eager Beaver and The Midget drove to my house to pick me up.  I received a necklace and flowers from Eager Beaver, and a box of chocolates from The Midget.  The Midget drove while Eager Beaver and I sat in the back seat.  We arrived at the pool hall, because that's a place of romance.  When we arrived, Eager Beaver and The Midget retrieved their pool cue sticks from the trunk.  They ordered pizza and soda.  I objected, I mean, really...  I needed a beer!

You might think that them having their own pool cues implies that they are actually good at pool, which couldn't be further from the truth.  I slaughtered them.  And I have to say, The Midget has a surprising advantage that should have helped him: the rest of us have to bend down to see where we're aiming, but he is right at eye level with the table.  

The date went on and on, and it was all very brutal and odd.  I was texting with The Beast, who was at my place with a very passed out Karen.  At least I could share my misery with him.  

Now I have to back up for a moment.  One of my favorite songs, partially because its hilariously un-PC and partially because I really love tall guys, is called "Short People Got No Reason to Live."  I found it when downloading music from The King's Singers, a fantastic acapella madrigal group.  
Probably the most horribly hilarious lyrics are:
"They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin' beep, beep, beep"
Just a couple months prior, I had had a wild holiday party at my house, and had apparently danced around the Christmas tree singing these lyrics and cracking up when I beeped.  
Having said that, I'm sure you can imagine my absolute horror at having to try to control myself when
The Midget
Yes, he was pretending to be a truck backing up, and was beeping at me. Beep, beep, beep.  I couldn't handle it anymore, it was time to go home.  I texted The Beast and told him I was bringing one and a half boys home.  
Back at home, it got worse.  My dog Carly, and Karen's dog Penny, both very much disliked kids.  Apparently, they also disliked little people.  They barked and barked and barked at The Midget.  Thus, Karen woke up from her hangover, so her and The Beast sat on the loveseat and I and my one and a half dates sat on the couch across from them.  Among the topics of conversation, all entirely introduced by The Midget, were why donut holes were called munchkins and why ooma loompas were orange.  Karen pulled me over to her at one point, and said, "I don't think The Midget knows we know that he's a midget.  I'm going to confront him.  He needs to know we know he's a midget."  

No comments:

Post a Comment