Night in the Ruts

Grilled Cheese - Nicky

        Another thing I do to basically everyone is the lookin' good hands.  That's the little gun thingy with your index finger and thumb and then you point at the person.  It makes Patty (Mrs. T) livid and I love it!  Oh, and when I do it to teachers... Oh, man it's hilarious.

        I'm the kid in the back of the Volkswagen vans from the mid-sixties making friends.  I have so many stoner-friends that it's not even funny.  Charlie is basically the only non-stoner I hang out with.  But I love her and she's cool and I'm not gonna make her do anything she doesn't want to do because if I do, then she'll kick my ass.  I don't particularly want my ass kicked at the moment.

       "Alright, let's establish a few ground rules," Charlie said.  I jumped, causing the car to roll forward a bit at the red light.  Oops.

        I was so engrossed with my thoughts that I forgot I was driving.  Charlie let me drive (I told her the deal was off if I couldn't.  She must be pretty desperate).  It's not like I can't drive; I've got my license, it's just that I'm so out of my mind half the time that I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

        Oh, right.  Conversation.  "Ground rules," I repeat.

      "Yeah," Charlie says, holding her blue Popsicle.  "Number one: You love Aerosmith.  They're your favorite band in the world.  Got it?"

        "Whatever."  Aerosmith.  Okay.  I can dig it.  Now, what the fuck is an Aerosmith?

        "Number two: Don't kiss me.  Ever."

        "Darn."  I roll my eyes.  I like how she just assumed I didn't already have a girlfriend and asked to be mine.  See, there's that word again: assume.  But why can't I kiss her?  Maybe I want to.

        Shut up, goddammit!

    "Three: Don't tell the lead singer or the rest of the band that you're just pretending to be my boyfriend.  As far as they know, we're the real deal."

        "Why am I doing this?" I ask.  Does this have anything to do with Jakey?

      "I went to a concert for Aerosmith a few weeks ago.  Jess snuck me backstage.  I met the frontman.  Jess and I convinced them we were hired strippers–"

        I cut her off with a laugh.  "Yeah, right!  You, stripper?"  I think it's hilarious, okay?

        "Drive, asshole," is her response.  I step on the gas.  "Anyway," she continues, "he figured out I wasn't a stripper–"

        "Yeah, no shit," I mutter.

        She plows through.  "–and asked for my phone number.  I said it wasn't a good idea because I didn't want my boyfriend to get the wrong idea.  So then a few nights ago, I called him and we talked for a little bit.  And I mentioned a boyfriend again.  And at the show, I kind of fell asleep and then I woke up next to him–"  What the hell?!  "–and yeah.  That's about it.

        Holy shit.  "You slept with him?"  I didn't mean to say it out loud, it just kind of slipped.

        "No, no, no!" she says.  "Well, I did, but I didn't."

        Oh, I see... Not!  Whatever, though.  It's her life.  I hang a right into the record store parking lot.  I turn off the car and march inside with my Popsicle.  I greet the dude at the counter with my classic greeting.  The best part: he does it back!  I guess I'd expect him to do it back, because I don't only get records here, but...