And if the music doesn't get this scene kick started? I'm screwed. I feel like Harry when whoozit put a spell on his broomstick and it was hopping and leaping all over the place while he was barely hanging on. Or like a reluctant toddler with my mouth glued shut refusing that bite of peas.
But back to my story. Myspace. I apparently hadn't been over there in months because there was a message in my inbox from April that read:
I think I knew you in the 5th grade (no... really!). I use myspace as ******* so I'm sure you wouldn't want to add me, so I'll just say hello and I enjoyed reading your blog page. I always wonder how people I knew as a child turned out. I went to Villa Rica Elem. as a wee lad. And if you are who I think you are, I also know you from _______ _______s' birthday party (I was on the other end of the bottle..lol)
Thank you for your time and I really enjoyed seeing your Picture.
Okay. First off, this was really sweet. Second. I don't remember being in to guys when I was eleven (euuww) but I do remember this party and I vaguely recall something or another. But my last social media re-hookup didn't work out so well. So call me leery.
Then, whilest reading Fifth Grade's letter, I got flashed by Texas Boy:
"ur sexy babe"
Really? Ur sexy babe? While I am flattered that you think I'm sexy, your approach is somewhat crass. And you can't spell. So no thanks.
Gardner West, in case you're still taking notes, I'm insulted. On the other hand, if I was interested in this dude, hot damn. It's all in the context.
Here's some Nilsson for you, Gardner. Straight from '69. Your stomping grounds. I hope you enjoy.