“Actually, yeah. I was homecoming king AND prom king. It was the first time in the history of the school that it happened. You should have seen how loud everyone cheered when they called my name. Dude, it was fucking amazing.”
What the fuck am I doing? I just called him 'dude'! And I’m sharing a memory with him. I don’t like this guy. I hate this guy. Do NOT be nice to him.
“Oh man, I wish I could have seen that! I bet you won everything,” he says. He stares at me for a few minutes, and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable when the next thing pops out of his mouth.
“Wait, Drew Parritt? Holy shit, I knew that name sounded familiar! You were first team, all-state during all four years of high school and got a scholarship but blew your knee out senior year. Oh my God! You’re a fucking legend!”
He knows me! He’s heard of me! I am a fucking legend!
“Shit, man! That last game of the season sucked major ass. I could have worked harder with the physical therapy and possibly been back on the field sophomore year of college but I was too busy with the ladies at that point,” I say with a laugh, quickly cutting it off and dropping my smile when I remember who the hell I’m talking to – Public Enemy Number One!
“Man, do you still have all of your trophies and awards and shit? I would love to see all of them,” he gushes.
Noooo, the force is strong! Resist! Resist!
“Yes! I have them all in the basement on a dinky shelf. I really want to build some kind of cabinet for them but I’m not good with that stuff.”
Fuck! What the fuck am I doing? Stop talking to him. He’s my arch nemesis!
“Hey, I can totally build that for you. I went to school for carpentry actually and my teachers all said I had great natural talent. I build stuff for everyone in the family, and I’m trying to start my own business. I could come over later and you could show me your trophies, and I can get an idea on how big of a cabinet you’ll need,” he says excitedly.
Awe, shit. I’m a goner.
“That would be fucking awesome! How much do you charge for something like that?”
Why am I asking him this? I will NOT let him make me a trophy cabinet. I WON’T, no matter what the price is.
“Oh, there’s no way I’d take your money. Totally on the house, dude. It would be an honor just to be able to see your trophies, let alone build you something to put them in.”
Well fuck, I think I’m falling in love with Fuckson. God dammit!!! At least Jim and Carter have already had a chance to talk to him and they can bring me back to reality with what an asshole he is.
The soccer game finally ends and Jackson says good-bye and that he’ll stop by later.
Fuck, I can’t even bring myself to call him a bad word anymore because he’s too fucking likeable! Now I’M the one who needs the intervention.
Jenny is busy talking to the parents, so I sneak away and walk over to Jim and Carter by the bleachers before she corners me and wants to “talk”.
“Okay, give it to me. Tell me every mean, awful, and shitty thing you think about him. Go.”
Jim and Carter share a look before turning to face me.
“Actually, we kind of like him,” Carter says sheepishly.
“Yeah, he’s going to come over tomorrow and watch the girls so Liz and I can go out to dinner,” Jim adds.
“He’s coming over to our house Tuesday because he has a secret wall cleaner he mixed together that will take black permanent marker off of the walls,” Carter says.
Noooooooo! They were supposed to help me! They were supposed to be my wingmen and now they just fucked me in the ass!
“Did you hear him talk about that thing he did in the fifth grade?!” Carter asks Jim.
“Oh my gosh, that was the funniest story ever!” Jim replies with a laugh.
“I really liked his jeans. I asked him where he got them and he said Target. Who knew?” Carter says with a shrug. “I wonder if he would go shopping with me for jeans if I ask him.”
I stare in horror at my two friends as they go back and forth gushing over my sworn enemy that I now kind of like.
“We’re going shoe shopping next Friday because he knows a great store about an hour from here that is having a huge clearance sale so make sure you don’t ask him to go Friday,” Jim says.
“Wait, a shoe sale? I need new shoes,” I tell Jim.
I am fucked.
Chapter 21 – Spoop
“I GOT IT!” I scream upstairs to Jenny as the doorbell rings and I race to answer the door.
It’s shoe shopping day and Jackson had told me he would come over and get me when he was ready to leave. I’m still not one-hundred-percent on board the Jackson train yet, but any guy that knows where the best shoe sales are gets a free pass for the day in my book.
I fling open the door and Jackson is standing there next to a four-shelf, hand-crafted, oak trophy case.
“I had some free time last night and was able to build your trophy case. I hope you don’t mind,” Jackson says with a smile.
Well son of a bitch. Now I’m on the Jackson train waving good-bye to my loved ones and heading off into the sunset with my new best friend.
“Dude, this is fucking awesome!” I tell him as I step outside onto the porch to get a good look at my new case. It’s the best piece of furniture I’ve ever seen. This thing will easily hold all of my trophies and medals, and this guy, who could probably tell I didn’t like him at first, had made it for me just to be nice.
Or he still wants to steal my wife and this is his way of distracting me. While I’m busy setting up my trophies, he’s going to be upstairs having sex with my wife.
“Oh, I almost forgot. I got this for you too,” Jackson says as he steps down off of the porch and picks something up that he had left by our bushes.
When he turns around, he’s cradling a garden gnome in his arms. But not just any garden gnome. This little guy is wearing an Ohio State football uniform from my alma mater. Instead of a weird garden gnome hat, he’s wearing a silver football helmet with a red and white stripe down the center. He’s also got on an Ohio State football jersey with my old number painted on it, and he’s holding a football in his arm.
Now, normally, I am not an advocate of garden gnomes. They are creepy little bastards that come to life at night and ass rape you while you’re sleeping. They hover over your head on your pillow and just wait until you flip over on your stomach so they can take off the covers and have their way with you. This hasn’t been proven scientifically yet, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. It’s also the reason why I always wear a belt to bed. I’m not making it easy for them to get my sweet ass!
Jenny has always wanted to get a gnome for our front yard - the one where the little creepy guy is sitting on a dock holding a fishing pole. Every time we are anywhere near a garden store she begs me to let her buy it. And every time, I have to remind her what those things are capable of. Especially one with a fishing pole.
Good God, woman! Do you know what kind of harm could come to my ass with a garden gnome carrying a fishing pole? Unspeakable acts will be conducted. UNSPEAKABLE.
I had never thought I would see the day where I would welcome a garden gnome into my yard. But this one is a winner. I can see it in his eyes that he would never hurt me. He would never use his evil garden gnome way against me.