June 14, 2006

• The Trick is to Walk Slow

  
  

  So, I lost the election.  I lost with dignity, though.  When they made the announcement on the loudspeaker and my name wasn’t called, I mouthed a quiet “Fuck” and then it was all in the past.  Well, it was all in the past in my mind.  See, the problem with publicly losing something is that other people don’t forget about it.  In that quiet little eighth period Spanish class, I lost the class election for vice president, and that was all.  Then, THEN, I walked out of that classroom and into the mainstream hallway of the rest of the student population.  I was walking down that hallway, and you could tell the ones that knew who I was were just waiting for me to cry.  That bothered me, so I began to walk faster, which directly resulted in more air blowing into my face.  I still felt like I was being watched. Feeling gawky and awkward, I walked even faster and gusts of dry hallway air started blowing into my eyes.  This was a horrible mistake.  I slowed down, but it was too late.  I began to blink repeatedly, so fast that you wouldn’t even know my eyes were opening.  I tried, really, I tried, but my efforts fell to crap.  My goddamned bloodshot eyes began to water.  “Are those…tears?” an acquaintance asked, stopping to put a hand on my shoulder, “Are you alright?  You’ll be alright.  There’s always next year.”

  
  

   

  
  

  “No, these are not tears,” I replied defensively, “My eyes are just irritated.”

  
  

   

  
  

  “Daryl, don’t be afraid of your emotions.  We all feel for you.”

  
  

   

  
  

  “No, seriously. I wasn’t crying.  There’s just something in my eye.”

  
  

   

  
  

  “Aww, you’re even using the ‘something in my eye’ line.  You don’t have to cover-up, Dar. Would you like a tissue?  A visit to the guidance counselor?  A hug?”

  
  

   

  
  

  Upon trying to cuddle with me, I tore away.  “Stop touching me, I’m happy.”

  
  

   

  
  

  “But you’re crying.  See guys?  Daryl’s crying.”

  
  

   

  
  

  Then I asked a nearby pothead if I could borrow his Visine and headed off toward my locker.

  • 5:49 pm
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