Small World…

Small World…

-December 14th, 2006 by Scott

Since my ‘Theory of the Day’ post did so well in offending a few of you, I thought I’d go you one further and share this neat little factoid. When you type ‘retard’ into the Google image search, on the first page of results, you will find this photo:

You may be thinking to yourself, “Not again, Scott. Why?”, but the fact of the matter is, you’re looking at Joe. I myself, as well as many others from my hometown of Rochester, New Hampshire, know Joe as one of the town’s notorious characters. Now follow me on this little journey I’m about to share with you about how this man once made me barf at a Friendly’s restaurant…

Years ago, I’m offered to go out to eat with my sister and her husband. This was shortly after noon, so no fancy-pantsy garbage; Friendly’s will do. We go. While we’re there ordering food, Joe shows up as he were to do any given day of the week. Does he enjoy the food that much? I wouldn’t know, because he doesn’t go there to eat, he goes to fuck with the paying patrons (in a benign and benevolent way — I know, I know — the sensitive touchy-touchies were ready to pounce just now).

So, I’m about to indulge in my gloriously undercooked burger complete with the chef’s personal touch of bodily garnish, when I’m startled by: “BOO!”. Joe has decided to climb into the opposite side of the booth chair and play Death in Final Destination. In other words, he was trying to see how many times it would take to say ‘boo’ before I choke and die. Obviously, this wasn’t scary, but it was my nervous laughter throwing me two shakes to blueface city. Since the employees of Friendly’s couldn’t give a fuck, this continued for as long as it took before he sat down next to me in the booth. I don’t remember our riveting conversation, but what I do remember was him grabbing me and thrusting me into his bosom so warm from the still scented milk and bile stains. His passion was so fiery and intense that it kept us from gazing into one another’s eyes. We didn’t have to. We simply knew. My memories still visceral of the beard stubble pressed firmly against my brow, like stumps stemming up from the plane of a freshly cleared redwood forest. I was vulnerable, but he was strong and sincere. Yet, his tenderness and love for me passed, as if osmotically, through the piss-stained rubber undergarments deep into my entirety. New and true love was conceived instantaneously and overtly for all to know.

In actuality, the guy fuckin’ hugged me and that’s when I started choking on my food, ran for the bathroom, lost my eats for a few, then came back out and decided to bid adieu to our dining endeavor. The end.