…and I’m catatonic
When I was in sixth grade, there was this set-up at school where, on Valentine’s Day, you could have a rose sent to anybody you wanted for a dollar. I sent one to my boyfriend Bobby with a note that said, “Happy Valentine’s Day, you total stud. Love, Pistol.” How funny was I when I was 12?
The rose I got from him must’ve had a note too, but I can’t remember what it said. Probably nothing terribly interesting. Young Bobby was a little out of his depths, ya know? He was nonplussed by my note. I think perhaps he wasn’t sure if I was making fun of him or not. Poor kid.
The roses were really just a popularity contest, because you were allowed to send them anonymously if you wanted. I got two besides Bobby’s! But don’t hate me: the preps ostracized me before the end of middle school anyway, and I cried for months, until I got my sea legs again, opened my diary to a fresh page and wrote, “I really like Doc Martens!!!”
Anyway! Back to the roses. My best friend Pug Nose got like seventeen. Bitch. And some people got none. I especially remember this one girl, Pitiful, who had a bizarre country-singer hairstyle and all the signs of being a victim of child abuse. They handed out the roses, and she didn’t get any, and she was so heartbroken that you couldn’t even look at her for more than a second. Then all my friends made fun of her. Awesome.
Now I’m wondering why the school even let the rose thing happen. To raise money for something? The whole thing was fucked. Most of us weren’t even pubescent! What was Valentine’s Day to us?
I wish I could go back in time and buy a truckload of roses for Pitiful.
6 Responses to “…and I’m catatonic”
1 Firecracker 15 February 2007 @ 3:28 pm
Now Bobby is in the gay/straight/gay category, have you seen his MySpace? Pictures show a lot of gel and standing on the beach wearing all white. Did you do this to him? Stud?
2 Firecracker 15 February 2007 @ 4:21 pm
Also didn’t he give you a Valentine devil? Or was that ANOTHER ONE of your 6th grade boyfriends?
3 Firecracker 15 February 2007 @ 4:21 pm
And it was a fundraiser so that the student council could hold awkward dances. Nice going.
4 Pistol Whip 15 February 2007 @ 8:31 pm
Wow, I had totally forgotten about the Valentine devil! Probably cause when I got it home, my mom raised her eyebrows in a way that made me feel dirty, so I blocked it out.
Which reminds me: Bobby’s note! It’s all coming back! I think it went something like, “You are a bad, bad girl, P.W. A naughty little girl. Daddy is totally gonna punish you! Love, Bobby.”
He is wicked gay now. That wife is obvs a beard.
5 Inspector Corset 16 February 2007 @ 12:42 pm
Sixth grade was the first time I ever “went” with a boy. “We’re going together”. This is how it happened.
Valentine’s Day, 6th Grade, I get a big wrapped up box with a note on it. “Will you go with me? Brett”
I open the present, and it’s a giant Hershey’s Kiss. Those things must have just come out, because no one had seen anything like it. I remember everyone staring at the chocolate mountain like, wow, that shit is hardcore! And it’s ALL CHOCOLATE! Yeah. So, I said yes to him.
It took me two weeks to finish the giant kiss. When I did, I broke up with Brett. All that time he never tried to kiss me.
Some boys never learn.
6 Firecracker 16 February 2007 @ 3:53 pm
I remember those giant Hersey’s Kisses!!! What is it giant versions of small things, or miniature versions of large things, that make them so much more awesome than the regular-sized thing?
Back to the giant Hersey’s Kiss–you had to like, gnaw at it, because it was so huge and dense. So after about 10 minutes it had teeth marks and was gross. But I had a friend who kept one, teeth marks all over it, bleah, for months.
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