The 5 Reads Of Christmas
No. 3 - "High School Sweethearts:
The Good, The Bad, And The Chunky"
By Buddy McWeiser
You’re in High School. You’re young. Your sexuality is at its peak and it’s all you can do to keep that NRB from popping out in the middle of your presentation on why Genghis Con would whoop Adolf Hitler’s ass in a street fight (and you better believe he would). You're trying to keep your cool up there because in the front row sits HER. That one babe that gets your lazy ass to the bus on time every morning, because you know she’s going to be sitting just 3 seats in front of you in History class; 2 tables over at lunch. This is the bell of the ball. All the guys drool over her, but you can tell when she passes you in the hall way and bats those suggestive little eyelashes at you, she’s all yours.
It’s prom season, and you know exactly who your going to ask. You think about doing something cheesy like leaving a note in her locker or writing “PROM?” in rose peddles on her front lawn as you play Seal “Kissed From A Rose” on your boom box. But that’s not your style. You mustard up the balls to walk right up to her and say, “Hey babe, we’re going to the fucking prom!” She melts in your arms. It’s the ballsiest thing she has ever seen, and she wants you.
Prom goes off without a hitch. You dance cheek to cheek. You gaze into each other’s eyes. You Hotmouth. The after prom party in the mountains is where the real magic happens. You’re both virgins, but not for long. After a few cold brews and laughs with friends, you both know what its time for. You take her by the hand and walk her up the stairs to the master bedroom where you lay her down oh so gently. You munch her box like a Greek God as her thighs quiver against ears. You ask her, “Are you ready?” “Yes” she replies, with that cute smile that made you love her in the first place. You make love. You make love with a fire and a passion that Hollywood Romantic Cinema could only dream of recreating. The night is perfect.
It’s graduation now. You and your lady have been banging on the reg after school since prom night, and you couldn’t be happier together. But she’s going away to college in the South, and your going to Penn State. This is the last you are going to see of her for some time. You make sweet love one last time, then go to see her off. You cry with her mother as her father packs her last bag, and drives away.
You talk for the first couple months on the phone, but it’s just not the same. Slowly you both lose interest. Meet other people. And eventually stop talking all together.
Four years have passed now. You have a new girl, she, a new man. You tell your girl to have a girls weekend while you and your boys go down to Sea Isle City for the All-class reunion at La Costa. You know SHE will be there. You can’t wait to see her and rekindle the old flame. And she has just sent you a text asking if you will be there. You know she wants you, too.
As you pay the cover and grab your first beer, you shake the hands and bull shit with all of your old chums. Reminiscing of the glory days when you used to tie Mrs. Wilson to her chair while she was asleep and had no-hands-fights in the back of the class room. But then all of the sudden you get a tap on the shoulder and hear the voice of an angel say, “Hey there stranger…” You know its her. You quickly turn around with the excitement of a 7 year old boy on Christmas morning. You whip your head around in jubilation and- wait- what? You could of sworn you heard the voice of that first love. That angel. But what stands in front of you is no angel. It is a 200 pound mammoth that appears to have eaten the woman whom you had given your V-card to and stolen her voice box. You say, “is that you?” “Of course its me! I put on a few pounds in college but, yup, its still me!” Your heart feels as though it had been ripped out and thrown in a garbage disposal. This is not the girl you fell in love with in History class, at lunch. This was a rotund mound of shit that you wouldn’t go near with your worst enemies penis. What had happened? Had she been so depressed at seeing you slay your way through sorostitutes that she decided to hold-up a Tasty Cake factory and take them for all they had?
You talk to her for a few minutes about some bull shit-you don’t remember- all you can think about is how it is possible for somebody to have six chins on one face. Finally, your friends bale you out and take you out for some 302’s to get your mind off things. You can’t believe it. Your High School Sweetheart…has become a fatty. But don’t fret my friend, it happens to the best of us.
-Buddy McWeiser
It’s prom season, and you know exactly who your going to ask. You think about doing something cheesy like leaving a note in her locker or writing “PROM?” in rose peddles on her front lawn as you play Seal “Kissed From A Rose” on your boom box. But that’s not your style. You mustard up the balls to walk right up to her and say, “Hey babe, we’re going to the fucking prom!” She melts in your arms. It’s the ballsiest thing she has ever seen, and she wants you.
Prom goes off without a hitch. You dance cheek to cheek. You gaze into each other’s eyes. You Hotmouth. The after prom party in the mountains is where the real magic happens. You’re both virgins, but not for long. After a few cold brews and laughs with friends, you both know what its time for. You take her by the hand and walk her up the stairs to the master bedroom where you lay her down oh so gently. You munch her box like a Greek God as her thighs quiver against ears. You ask her, “Are you ready?” “Yes” she replies, with that cute smile that made you love her in the first place. You make love. You make love with a fire and a passion that Hollywood Romantic Cinema could only dream of recreating. The night is perfect.
It’s graduation now. You and your lady have been banging on the reg after school since prom night, and you couldn’t be happier together. But she’s going away to college in the South, and your going to Penn State. This is the last you are going to see of her for some time. You make sweet love one last time, then go to see her off. You cry with her mother as her father packs her last bag, and drives away.
You talk for the first couple months on the phone, but it’s just not the same. Slowly you both lose interest. Meet other people. And eventually stop talking all together.
Four years have passed now. You have a new girl, she, a new man. You tell your girl to have a girls weekend while you and your boys go down to Sea Isle City for the All-class reunion at La Costa. You know SHE will be there. You can’t wait to see her and rekindle the old flame. And she has just sent you a text asking if you will be there. You know she wants you, too.
As you pay the cover and grab your first beer, you shake the hands and bull shit with all of your old chums. Reminiscing of the glory days when you used to tie Mrs. Wilson to her chair while she was asleep and had no-hands-fights in the back of the class room. But then all of the sudden you get a tap on the shoulder and hear the voice of an angel say, “Hey there stranger…” You know its her. You quickly turn around with the excitement of a 7 year old boy on Christmas morning. You whip your head around in jubilation and- wait- what? You could of sworn you heard the voice of that first love. That angel. But what stands in front of you is no angel. It is a 200 pound mammoth that appears to have eaten the woman whom you had given your V-card to and stolen her voice box. You say, “is that you?” “Of course its me! I put on a few pounds in college but, yup, its still me!” Your heart feels as though it had been ripped out and thrown in a garbage disposal. This is not the girl you fell in love with in History class, at lunch. This was a rotund mound of shit that you wouldn’t go near with your worst enemies penis. What had happened? Had she been so depressed at seeing you slay your way through sorostitutes that she decided to hold-up a Tasty Cake factory and take them for all they had?
You talk to her for a few minutes about some bull shit-you don’t remember- all you can think about is how it is possible for somebody to have six chins on one face. Finally, your friends bale you out and take you out for some 302’s to get your mind off things. You can’t believe it. Your High School Sweetheart…has become a fatty. But don’t fret my friend, it happens to the best of us.
-Buddy McWeiser