Monday, December 31, 2012

That time I ordered pizza in detention.

This is a true story. What you are about to read is completely true.

When I was in eleventh grade, a long long long long LONG time ago, I did something awesome.

First, I bought stink bombs. Not the kind you light. The good kind  with the sulfurous stinky stuff in a little glass vial, and all you have to do is drop them, walk away, and watch the hilarity ensue.

This was great fun. I'd find me a group of popular kids and worm my way into the middle of the group. Then I'd drop my present and walk away.

The rednecks were even better. Just waltz through like you're late for class and drop two of those suckers. But with rednecks, you gotta kinda get out of there fast, because they hit chicks. Especially non-conformist chicks who understand why it's socially unacceptable to fly the Confederate flag.

But that's not really what this story is about.

I had the idea to drop a stink bomb on the schoolbus. It was bitterly cold out and no one could open their windows and the reactions of these people was hysterical. Oh how I wish there was YouTube back then, because it would have been viral.

And then... busted. Some bigmouthed little kid, Mike Shinabery*, found the empty stinkbomb package and ratted me out. The bus driver didn't really know what to do.  Should lil ol Rodey skate away with just a warning? Was this worthy of a bus ticket? Or perhaps it was even worse, a trip to Mr. Pearson's office? That man had a mustache to make you quiver, and not in a good way.

No dice for me, I got the trip to the assistant principal's office.

And the ultimate decision was made - four hour after school detention.

Not four days of detention, no. One day. Four hours long. Detention.

I sat it out as long as I could. I really did. But then, about forty five minutes into it, the detention teacher, who was also a special ed teacher, left the room.

We waited, but she didn't come back.

Finally I got an idea.

"Who wants pizza?"

It was unanimous, we all wanted pizza. I brazenly (or maybe not so brazenly) walked up to the teacher's desk, grabbed her phone, and ordered pizza.

"Delivery," I said. "Room A104, Lowell High School."


They delivered the pizza directly to room A104. Just walked right in there with a pizza.

We ate it. We waited to get busted, but the teacher never came back. No one even came in to check on us. The janitor stopped in to grab the trash and just looked at us. I threw my napkin in his big gray can, staring him down, daring him to say something, but nothing. He shrugged and walked away.

The teacher never came back, so when we were done eating, we all left.

It was a pretty good day.

*His real name. Go ahead, stalk him on facebook. I'm sure he's still a twerp.

Passed out.

This is a true story about a bad decision.
Everything I am about to tell you is true.

When I was younger, I was kind of a hellion. I was like, 99% normal and 1% hellion. Which means no one liked to party with me because I am boring when I drink.


I was about 19 or 20 years old. I was living with my Grandma and she told me I had to be in before midnight because she didn't want me to come in and wake up Grandpa in the middle of the night.

So I went out. Now let me explain to you that I am not now, nor have I ever been, like other girls. I prefer liberty spikes to ringlets and black eyeliner to glitter. On that particular night, I was wearing blue plaid pants that were covered in chains and zippers. I also had on a black tank top and a t-shirt, but I don't remember what shirt it was.

I left around 8pm and went to a bomb ass concert. I got in a little fight with some preppy girls but nothing too serious. My friend was with me and we were going to head back to his house to drop him off (we were just friends, nothing more) but we were kind of under the influence of various substances. So we went back to my Grandma's house.

Two things occurred to me as I pulled in the driveway. One: It was like six oclock in the morning. Two: I had a guy with me.

I decided to make my friend sleep in the backseat of my car, figuring Grandma wouldn't look out there. Then to make up for the fact that I was in so late, I came up with a brilliant plan. I would just make it look like I had gotten up really early. Genius factor 11!

This actually worked out okay for a few hours, until my whole family showed up around 10am. I was still in my clothes from the night before, minus the t-shirt, and my heavy black eyeliner was kind of smeared. I pulled it off okay, talking with my family, until everyone moved into the living room. Being the courteous person that I am, I let my aunts and uncles and grandparents use the furniture, while I sat on the floor.

Somehow sitting on the floor turned into slumping on the floor which turned into passed out on the floor.

I have no idea what happened during that three hours. All I know is, I woke up completely sprawled all over the living room floor, with black eyeliner running all over my face and carpet imprints on my cheek. No one was in the room with me anymore. Apparently the sight of my shame was too much to handle.

I got up and wandered into the kitchen. Everyone looked up at me. And NO ONE SAID A WORD. They pretended nothing was wrong, like I hadn't passed the fuck out in the middle of the floor at a family function.

I don't remember anything else about that day, except about ten hours later I remembered that my friend was hidden in the backseat of my car. He was pretty pissed that I forgot him. We got food and I took him home, and I'm pretty sure Grandma knew exactly what was going on, but I, eternally grateful that to this very day she hasn't mentioned it.

Old Man in my Car

Here is a story about a stranger.
What I am about to tell you is completely true.

One time, I went camping.

This is not such a big deal for me or anyone else, really. Camping happens.

I went by myself, and I brought my dog Bruno, a doberman. We drove north for a few hours till we got to the town of Charlevoix, MI, which is on the shores of Lake Michigan. Then we stopped at a state park, paid the fee, and went camping.

Bruno does not like camping. It makes him nervous. Every twig snap, every child laughing, every flashlight in the night sends him into fits of barking. Bruno does not have a nice bark. He only does one kind of bark, and it's very loud and very deep.

People avoided us when we went camping, because Bruno scared them.

Anyway, that's the not story.

It was almost evening and my cousin Jay and his girlfriend Eva were coming up to visit me while I camped. So I tied Bruno to a tree and I started hauling stuff out of the trunk of my car. I brought all kinds of goodies with me when I went camping - 99% of which I did not use. But for them coming to visit, I did need some firewood and some charcoal, and a little axe to chop up the firewood. (As it turns out, I forgot the axe.)

I grabbed the charcoal out of the trunk and walked back toward the picnic table. I looked over at my driver's side window as I passed by and saw something very, very odd.

Sitting in the driver's seat of my car was an old man.
I stopped with the charcoal in my arms and looked at him for what seemed like a really long time. I just stared. I can't remember what went through my mind. I'm assuming I was kind of freaked out about there being a dude in my car.

He was just as real as you and me. Nothing ethereal or ghost like. He had white hair, nicely combed, and prominent cheekbones. He had a little bit of white stubble on his face. His arm was tan with white hairs on it and he was wearing a turquoise dress shirt, short sleeved with a crease. He was looking straight ahead, not noticing me at all.

And then suddenly all I could see was the reflection of the trees in my window and the old man was gone.

I am not prone to thinking that everything I see is supernatural, but after pondering the incident for the last few months, I'm pretty sure I saw a ghost.

Time Warp.

Here I will tell you a story about when I ended up in a time warp.

Everything I am about to tell you is true. I did not make any of this up.

I was about fourteen years old. My mom had a friend who bought an old schoolhouse in Lowell, MI. We went over there often to help them clean it up and get it converted into a livable space.

One day I tore down a shed and got my foot stuck in the wall. I karate kicked it and my foot went through and got stuck about three feet off the ground. My mom had to rescue me. But that's not the story.

After I tore down the shed, I went for a walk in the woods. I walked west towards Segwun, a pretty major road that runs through Lowell.

I walked and walked and then I got tired so I sat down by a tree to rest. I fell asleep.

I woke up a little while later because my butt was wet from sitting on leaves.

It was getting towards evening, and since it was summer, it was hard to tell what time it was. It could have been 7pm, or it could have been 8:30. Hard to tell.

I headed east to go back to the house. Suddenly I noticed there were other houses around that I did not originally pass on my walk. I was confused and thought I was lost, so I checked my compass. I always carried a pocketknife with a compass in the end. I was still headed east, so I wasn't lost.

I kept walking and then I came to Segwun. I had to cross it to get back. I did not cross this street on my walk, and there's no way to get to the other side of it without crossing. No hidden tunnels or skybridges or anything like that.

I crossed the road and got back to the house.

Since then I have done a lot of thinking. How did I cross the road and get so far without realizing it?

I have thought about that day for the last sixteen years. A few years ago I realized what had happened. The only logical explanation.

I got stuck in a time warp.

The end.