1995 — NINETEEN
*BECK * HOLE * NIN * NIRVANA*
*WHITE ZOMBIE * SMASHING PUMPKINS
Eve,
Hey man, my number is 666-8728
But you can only call after 7:00.
There is this boiled arm dude sitting next
2 me. My study hall really suckes. But I’m not
suppose to be her or at least that’s what my new
schedule says. Next I have that fairy guy
Mr. Peterson. My dad had him in school, he
must be an old fogie. My dad has weed growing
at my house, and a hole shit load of it at the store.
Me and James Hill found it over the summer
when where searching for Gonzo the cat at my store.
Well I have to go.
Dave Bauer (the homie G)
Dave was likely practice on my game, with all of my ninth-grade welcome to the world girl sluttiness boldness. Look how fast I got his number. Those band names at the top of the note were perfectly pencil drawn into miniature renditions of the actual band logos. And then to close, he reveals illegal personal anecdotes in order to impress me. The grade before, I remember when I finally made it to sitting at the coolest delinquent’s lunch table at school - he sat at that table. It was after Halloween, because I remember us bringing in our massive bags of candy (that we had all become almost officially too old to collect) and getting ridiculously sugar high. This is probably going to sound like one of the most unwise things to do but as 13 year old drug glamorizing idiots, we smashed up our Smarties candies, cut them into lines on the lunch table, and preceded to snort them right out in the open view of the entire cafeteria. Amazingly, none of teachers, cafeteria workers or hall monitors at our enabling school did anything, let alone say anything. Dave and sat across from each other that day and cut Smarties lines for each other. That was the first time we’d ever really interacted. He was very cute and wore beat up converse one stars. He was one of the shyer boys in our group, whom I was just trying to get engaged in note-passing with me, but with hopes of trying to increase my dating pool, because I was still dipping in only the boys-my-own-age end of it. This note was before I just said fuck that and began to aim for older boys with cars, as a means of escape and cliche rebellion. That Eureka moment originally occurred probably about six-months from this time. Soon in these notes, will enter the first main-boyfriend character… the last one I was with who was the same age as me. Dave and I never dated, our personalities were just much too different. But we always remained on good terms, hung out in a group from time to time, but after a while, we drifted apart and the relationship boiled down to pretty much just saying hello in passing and having graduated in the same class.
