A backwoods party at it's finest. (860 hits)
Category: HumorRating: 0.6 on 6 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jenbee<imissemoboy.at.hotmail.com> (View user info) at 2004-09-15 23:07:10 EDT
"You obviously don't know how to drive."
"Yes, yes I do, its just dark..." I reason with myself and my passenger as I make a pathetic attempt to find the ignition of her car. Once said ignition was found, her car would be started like any other piece of shit built before 1986. With a fork.
I stared out into the woods and debated. First, how drunk was I? Not at all, not by any standards.
Second, how badly did I have to pee? Bad. Painfully bad. Think... Road trip with mom and dad...that long stretch of highway... that 42 ounce Mountain Dew dad bought you twenty minutes ago...
I decided the pain was somewhere between "punch in the face" bad and "contacts made of shattered glass" bad.
Bad enough to illegally drive someone else's car (with her riding shotgun) to the nearest gas staion, grocery store, video place...somewhere with a semi-clean lavatory.
Sweet Jesus! I now had the fruits of my fondling randomly around the sterring wheel. An ignition. Now, insert fork, twist firmly...and... Ah, yes, the gentle hum of the motor.
I can see I am going to have problems with this car. This clutch is "one of those". You know the kind, the bitchy ones that seem to always remind you of your grandma's cat. A one person kind of deal. the cat that hides under the bed and hisses if anyone but your grandmother walks in the house.
I lurch backward, aware of the odds against me. There is a car parked directly behind me, the previous owner of this car bought a home tinting kit some years ago for the back window, (redering it bubbly and purple after all these hot summers) My friend is babbling on in a drunken rage over...something...the lights on the back of this car have about as much power as a christmas light, and there is this group of stupid bitches who INSIST upon running directly behind this car. Multiple times. I keep slamming on the brakes.
Slooooowly, ever so slowly, do I begin the long journey. With my neck strained to see all the cautions behind me, I see that I am more capable than I had previously imagined.
"JEN! STOP!"
Hm. I have failed to notice Mr. Popular's brand new 2005 Chevy Suburban parked right next to me.
I laugh. "::chuckle:: HA! I just missed that! Almost turned the nose right into his car...ha ha...damn, I would have been so screwed if I had-"
"AW DAYYYYAAAMMN! SOMEBODY BETTER HAVE THEIR INSURANCE CARD OUT!"
Ah, yes. Dayamn right back atcha, brothah. Of course, this is followed by the random hoots and hollers of a group of drunken teenagers. These noises are, of course, accompanied by rap inspired moves such as the "jump up and down while waving one hand in the air and grabbing your balls with the other" and the "making random hand gestures toward the scene that may or may not be used for gang signs/directing traffic".
I run toward the other car with my hand over my mouth screaming apologetically. "OH MY GOD! I'M SO SORRY! WHERE'S THE OWNER?!"
I am intercepted by the intellectual of the group. The pretty blonde.
"LIKE! OH! MY! GOD!"
"...?"
"YOU HIT BRETT'S CAR!"
"I know."
"YOU TOTALLY HIT HIS CAR!"
"I see that.."
"YOU HIT BRETT'S CAR!"
"...."
"YOU HIT IT!"
"I KNOW!"
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT HE'S GOING TO DO TO YOU?!"
"Hopefully not kick my ass, I am, after all, a girl."
"YOU HIT BRETT'S CAR!"
"Would you possibly have an 'off' or 'mute' button?"
Brett runs over to asses the damage. I'm scared, because I am pretty sure he was the one screaming something about "five hundred dollars" from near his car. Now that I know he doesn't actually have a good idea of what the problem is yet, I know this claim is bullshit, I could very well owe him seven or eight hundred dollars.
Around twelve people pull out a lighter (remember, it is very, very dark) and reveal my fate...
A chip of chrome is missing from the trim around his back wheelwell.
Brett chuckles.
I gasp and then release a strained something that came out like "..ha...::choke:: ::cough:: is it okay???"
Then a few more people giggle.
Soon, everyone has had a laugh, save the poor bastards who are dissapointed they didn't get to see a woman get smacked around.
...I did forget all about having to pee so badly.
User Reviews
Submitted by creep_firebombing (user info) at 2004-12-18 09:56:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Werd.
Submitted by Stin (user info) at 2004-09-16 12:26:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
You haven't had the usual flood of "-2 DIE"'s for your first post because you might actually turn out to be one worth reading.
You go girl.
Submitted by DonkeyOnTheEdge (user info) at 2004-09-15 23:34:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
You forgot about the pee cause you went in your pants.
Submitted by Impassive-Digressive (user info) at 2004-09-15 23:29:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Quartermain (user info) at 2004-09-15 23:16:49 (#)
Ranking: 0
I miss emo boys too.
But my aim is steadily improving.
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I laughed my ass off at this comment. I am afraid I can't say the same about the post.
Submitted by jenn <thisisnotemo69.at.hotmail.com> at 2004-09-15 23:22:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
that's jen! the kicker of all asses.. haha excellent
Submitted by Quartermain (user info) at 2004-09-15 23:16:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I miss emo boys too.
But my aim is steadily improving.