Ugh. What gives?
I’m cool, right? Like, I drive cars. I've got a big friendly dog. I’ve hiked. I even invented a new game in my room just called Splat!, and Coach Todd said it has interesting rules. And yet for some reason, none of the pretty girls I asked will go with me to the inauguration of the 45th President of the United States of America.
Is it my technique? Approach? Style? No chance, ‘cuz I’m smooth at her.
Imagine this: It’s you and me. We’re doing hooky on the inauguration and instead it’s like everybody’s there except us because we’re over it.
Here’s how I go in:
“Hello [name of pretty girl]. You need a piece of gum? I got loads. What’s your favorite diet you’ve tried? Wow. Hey [same name as before]? I would be made whole if you would do me the honor of accompanying my car and me to our nation’s capital for the inauguration this January 20th. I am a gentleman, though, so please don’t experience climax after me or it will be a shameful act to my pride.
My mom said maybe it’s not ‘dates’ this year but ‘friend groups’ instead. Mom was not in the ‘in’ crowd of popularity like I am, so she doesn’t understand this convention. In films and dramas, it’s a rite of passage to go to the inauguration with a romance partner. Even if it is as just friends.
In addition, I dress real cool. My inauguration attire is as follows:
- Cummerbund and necktie
- Pocket roses
- Tall pants that go straight down
- Jacket
- Shoes with backs on them
This is how they all go to the inauguration and I’m no different. In fact, look at this image on my phone of me dressed as cool as heck from when I went to Vegas and got to stand in front of the famous Las Vegas fountain like Ocean’s Twelve.
Whatever, though. Who says you have to go the inauguration? Not me because I would not say that and you have to live your own life out and make it outside of what people expect from you. This is why I haven’t tasted alcohol yet and won’t until everybody else stops. That’s when I’ll do it. My friends all say I’m punk rock, but I think I’m more jazz like that.
Imagine this: It’s you and me. We’re doing hooky on the inauguration and instead it’s like everybody’s there except us because we’re over it and just want to rip go-karts. And it’s like we’re doing races and I decide I’ll let you win but then you start winning on accident so I try to win back but then you end up winning for real and I’m like wow and I want to have more romances with her. And the whole time it’s like, we’ve both got hecka messages from friends and colleagues about ‘Where are you guys? I don’t see you at the inauguration.’ But we don’t even answer once.
But still, though. Going to the inauguration and just, like, going as hard as frick without even caring what people think on you would be ill and probably a awesome memory for us. Like, name a more iconic duo. I’ll wait.”
That’s what I say and then I just check my tower defense and wait for her to kiss my mouth without a sound, but it never happens.
It is becoming very soon to the inauguration and I’m nervous that I won’t have any pretty girls agree to go with me and I will be going alone again with just me. If this is the case, I will put my sunglasses on and stand on the inauguration stage looking like a guy who would smoke a cigarette if you asked him, and that’s enough for me.