Idiots I Went To High School With: The Legend of The Booty Buster

It was sometime in May. Year: 2001. I was at a high school party, swishing a mouthful of stale beer, when this doofus came scampering into the room.

To get a sense of this kid, picture a boner. Seriously, picture a throbbing boner with a huge vein jutting down the middle. This was the type of kid probably raised in one of the most affluent parts of?Long Island, yet dressed as if he just walked off the set of?Boyz in da Hood.

So this?kid boner bustles up to me with his North Face bubble jacket bubbling, his sweatpants hanging from his ass, his hat hovering over his head at a thuggishly crooked angle, and asks me about a passed out girl in the corner.

?That one?? I asked, and pointed as if pointing was necessary, as if there was any dispute over the comatose girl lying next to the eucalyptus plant.

?Yee-ah, son,? he said as I watched his baby face light up. ?Ima take care ?o tat. Name?s Gerard, by the way.?

I looked at him, quizzically.

?Yeah boy!? Gerard exploded, and then, as if offering an addendum, raised a hand yearning for a high-five.

I looked at the hand, quizzically. As I continued to stare at the hand, perplexed, his oversized, pre-coital grin evaporated.

?Son,? he began, his voice dark with anxiety, ?I don think yous heard me. Ima take care ?o tat honey dere.?

He actually licked his lips.

Normally, I?m not one for the moral high road, but this was ridiculous. Gerard had to be stopped. If for no other reason, the fool deserved to be cock-blocked.

?Yeah, Gerard, I don?t think that?s a great idea,? I told him dryly, matter-of-factly.

?Oh!? Gerard bellowed, his face flushing with anger or embarrassment, ?Oh! Son! Don?t, son! Don?t!? He took off his hat and fanned his face.

I looked around the room, surveying for allies. There was a couple making out on the couch, two kids lighting up a bong by the door, and some ugly girl pacing the room repeating, ?Mom can?t find out! She can?t!?

Great, I thought to myself,?Everyone is out of their fucking mind.

Gerald turned to face me head-on. Frustration filled his eyes. He looked extra bonerly. He said, ?Don?t? once more. His finger pointed at me threateningly.

As Gerard turned to claim his booty, some dude Tom popped out of the kitchen. ?Hey there guy,? Tom said, a warm limb snaking around Gerard?s shoulders as his voice took a pitch you?d expect from a used car salesmen, ?How we doin?? Good? Good.?

?Ima about to git these fingers wet up,? Gerard responded and showed Tom the fingers.

?Nice. Real nice. Like your style, pal,? Tom went on, his face getting closer to Gerard?s.

Gerard, obviously growing uncomfortable, tried to shy away, proclaiming, ?Yo, Ima hit dis, bro. I?ll tell you bout it lata.?

Tom roped him in, his mouth inches from Gerard?s ear. ?I got a slut that wants to fuck your cock,? he slurred into Gerald?s ear. ?You want that? A slut to fuck your cock??

Gerard violently pulled away, but stared at Tom in shock and disbelief.

?She want to fuck me?? Gerard said, excited, ?Aight, son. Where she at.?

Okay reader, timeout.

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About Rob J. Rob J. is a writer and dating instructor in New York City. Themes that resonate in both his teaching and writing are masculinity, genuineness, rational self-interest, and general awesomeness.