Archive for September, 2011

Fifth Grade Date Nite

Posted in horror stories, my gifted life, WHATS WRONG WITH YOU, WHATS YOUR PROBLEM on September 26, 2011 by Samuel K the Best

In 5th grade I went to K-Mart with my mother. I’d wandered off to the electronics to find where they hid the Weird Al tapes. Suddenly, this girl I don’t know comes up to me and says “Ashlee likes you.”

“Who are you?” I asked. I’d never seen this girl before in my life. I start looking around, confused, when I spot a girl in my class called Ashlee standing some distance away, trying not to be noticed.

This girl stepped in front of where I was looking through the cassette bins and said “I’m Stevie, Ashlee’s friend. She likes you.”

“Oh, okay. Well, she’s nice. I don’t like her, though,” I said. I meant like as in like like. In italics. I liked Ashlee okay. We sat near each other because we had alphabetical seating and she and I both had similar last names.

“She wants to go on a date with you,” Stevie said.

“I don’t want to go on a date with her, sorry. Could you get out of my way, please?” I was desperate for those Weird Al tapes.

“I’ll move if you go on a date with Ashlee.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Then I’m not moving.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” I said and I wandered off to find my mother. I guess Stevie and Ashlee followed me because swoosh in out of nowhere and Stevie starts yelling “SAM WANTS TO GO ON A DATE WITH ASHLEE!” and Mom thought I was just embarrassed when I started yelling at her “NO I DONT GO AWAY!” I was fucking trapped. A masterstroke by Stevie and I’ll never forget how goddamn happy Ashlee looked as my mother was like “Yeah, I’ll call your mum later this week and set something up!”

I don’t know exaclty how everything got arranged, but Ashlee and I were all set to go see SPACE JAM together with my mum as a chaperon. After the movie, we took Ashlee home, I didn’t hear from Ashlee all weekend, and Monday morning she was telling everybody that I was her boyfriend.

“No, I’m not,” I said, “You tricked me into going on a date with you and it’s over. Seriously. Don’t do that again.”

I thought that would be the end of it, but I forgot that she had my phone number. She started calling me nearly every night for about a week. I remember the first time she called I was MEGA pissed because A Goofy Movie was on the Disney Channel and I was trying to watch it.

The phone conversation started out with her screaming into the phone “YOU USED ME!” and I said “I don’t think you know what that means,” and it went from there. She went on and on about what a dog I was and how badly I’d hurt her and how I used her. I kept saying “What exactly did I use you for? I was going to go see Space Jam anyway. What’s your problem?”

I finally got sick of talking to her, plus they were about to get to the Powerline concert in the movie, so I said “Okay, well, sorry,” and hung up on her.

This went on for about a week. We never talked at school, but she’d call every day around 6 o’clock and each time she got progressively more and more agitated and determined to make me feel sorry for her. I’d hang up on her, but she’d INSTANTLY call me back, more upset than ever at me. More often than not, I’d just go about my business, carrying the cordless phone around the house, letting her blow off steam or whatever while she freaked out and cried on the other end of the line.

At one point, she was SCREAMING into the phone at me, completely in tears and gasping for breath. I had the phone crooked in my shoulder while I played Sega, only half listening. She’d just gotten through enumerating all the horrible things that have happened to her in her life when she paused to catch her breath.

I asked her, “Are you done?”

She stopped making any noise and to this day, I’ll never forget what happened next. After a long silence her voice rose with self-righteous fury:

“My aunt DIED…!”

There was a pause in which I said “Um.”

“… Of AIDS!!

The word “AIDS” was delivered at a full wail, drawing it out into a quavering shriek and she began crying again. I don’t know what came over me, but I started laughing. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop. I said “All right, seeya!” and hung up and just fucking ROLLED on the floor. I laughed until it felt like I was going to pass out.

Ashlee only ever called me one more time. It was one of those weird occurrences where the phone and the doorbell ring at exactly the same time. I answered the phone and Ashlee said “It’s me,” and I said “I don’t have time for you right now,” and hung up on her.

Ashlee and I never talked at school again. Even all the way through high school, she held a grudge. I can’t say as I blame her, but seriously, kids do stupid crap. Get over it.

I’m not sure if it was true or not, but to this day I think of her screaming that her aunt died “… of AIDS!!” and I start laughing to myself. I can still hear it perfectly. She yelled “AIDS” so loud that the speaker on my phone crackled and popped a little bit. Easily one of the funniest things I’ve ever heard.

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