From the old 90210 to the new one, I’ve lived in Teenageland longer than I should have. I’ve seen fictional characters go from high school to college, action those self-proclaimed critics state as “jumping the shark”. I never fully understood why so many people hate that TV-transition, until a few days ago. It’s not realistic… And yes, I’m talking about realism on TV shows where everyone just accepts 29-year-olds as high school students and black kids as an extinct specie.
Coming from a phase when a “sorry, hon, I can’t drive you to the mall today” felt like a justified cause of depression; young impressionable idiots, like me, end up feeling scammed when we realize how few fucks one actually gives once we reach college… I guess it’s hard to create a mildly successful TV Drama in which we can’t care about the characters, given that they don’t even care about themselves.
Time for a context and an explanation: Muffin and I thought it would be fun for us to stay an extra day before heading home for spring vacation on a cheap hostel; we also decided to invite some testosterone to stay with us, agreeing they make the world a sexier place. After a relatively open invitation, that testosterone end up being Muffin’s boyfriend (a.k.a The Muffin Man; credit: Danni), Dude and Dude’s “loving-hands” friend I mentioned on my last entry, which, for fun, we’ll call Judas. I swear I wasn’t aware of this arrangement until last minute, I don’t seek drama that hard… Although, I’m guilty of not giving a damn when I see it about to crash against me.
In an unexpected but greatly appreciated twist of events, Dude decided to be pleasant; there was no chemistry left between us, whatsoever (which makes me wonder if there ever was).
Indifference reign over the evening even before we took the hookah out and do that transferring smoke from mouth to mouth thingy; activity awfully enjoyed by Judas and me. Later, that evening, a fuck was almost given when my own friend assured me Judas’ girlfriend wasn’t really a girlfriend and more like a casual fling, you can’t really blame me for thinking this was just too suspiciously convenient for it to be true.
However, the “I-Don’t-Care.I’m-A-Golden-God” Award was given to Dude after I was informed of a conversation that took place during my absence (ihaveatinybladder.org).
Do you like her?
[looks at Dude awkwardly]
Hey, don’t let me stop you. Next time, give me the heads up and I’ll stay at our dorm.
0700: Dude was already at his dorm, keeping his word; Muffin and her Man were at the middle of a two hour sex session inside a bathroom stall; Judas and I were at our only bed, sleeping and, for the first time in the history of my blog, I don’t mean anything else than that.
Our eyes completely closed, our legs locked between each others’ and his hands holding mine; minutes before my brain completely shut off, it revolved around an almost dating rule: “A guy wouldn’t leave his girlfriend or whatever it is, for a girl who his friend banged the night they met her”. I lost my thought when he showed me he wasn’t asleep, either, by holding my hands tighter and bringing them closer to his chest. Being the cynic I am, I knew it didn’t mean a thing; being the idiot I am, I smiled.