My senior year in high school, a friend’s mother was having us play a charades game where you’re given a description of yourself and act it out as the other people in the church group tried to guess. Mine was wallflower. And maybe it’s a testament to how much of a wallflower I am when I say I had no idea what a wallflower was, let alone how to act it out.
I had this friend, J—, who had transferred in that year. He has that sort of natural good looks and handsome charm that girls just go for, but had the misfortune of being placed in our top math class.
(Oh sure, that’s a good thing if you wanted a 5 in your Calculus BC Advanced Placement exam, but it probably didn’t help the very much if you are a social animal like J—.)
I think we only became friends because one day in class I was really tired and started to rub my eyes in a manner he thought funny. My recovery was saying that this was an ancient oriental secret and he should start rubbing his eyes that way also and then he’d start getting better grades in the class. Sure, a side effect is that his eyes might change and his hair might darken like mine, but it’d be worth it.
[About J— and me at parties after the jump.]Continue reading