Friday, May 13, 2011

Chasing Suzy Socialite

There is just something about the way she looks in sundresses. Like a lush rose standing alone in the middle of the 10th fairway at Augusta National, Suzy stands out.

She walks with such confidence, instead of one foot in front of the other, she glides, no, floats across the floor. Suzy never smiles, but looks far from smug. Her hair is never too long, or too short, and always perfectly matched to that of her television sitcom sisters that she’s so destined to become one day. She just has it, what the hell is it?

Everyone in school knows her, how could they not? Senior class president, captain of the cheerleading team, she’s hard to miss. Suzy Socialite steams up each classroom she blesses with her attendance from boys panting like dogs, hormones ensure they can’t help salivating at what they most desire.

How did this happen to me? I’m president of the cultural acceptance club, I like video games and bingo, how did I fall for Suzy Socialite? Understandably, love is never an easy emotion to explain.

I’ve never once had a meaningful conversation with Suzy Socialite, not once had we ever shared even a laugh together. The one time I did bump into her, literally in the hallway, she reacted as if a minor assault had just taken place, one part disgusted, one part determined to never let it happen again.

Connie Caregiver on the other hand, when don’t we laugh together? When don’t we have fun? She sends me cards on random holidays I’ve never heard of, and helps pack my stuff up for me when I’m running late for my next class. She’s vice president of the cultural acceptance club, so we are obliged to see each other at least twice a week. When we’re together we never run out of things to talk about. How come I feel so numb to the idea of chasing after her? I’m pretty sure she’s a really good person.

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