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[Another entry from my work-in-progress book (see here for previous), on 100 dudes I missed out on dating. Sigh.]
Being a new kid sucks. It’s not as bad when you’re only nine, and therefore safe from the added stress of being ugly and dateless (just wait a few more years), but who likes having no friends? It’s even more disturbing when the previous new kid in the class is still a loser. Even with six long months to assimilate, this “veteran” new kid was despondent, sickly and skinnier than most. Is that what happened to the new kids here? Beaten down ‘till they developed “new kid malaria”?
I promised myself I’d turn out better, but instead of buying friendships with cookies, my behaviour veered off track towards a secret passion. This hidden lust could only be fed after rainy school-day mornings, with the pavement full of puddles and worms. On those magical mornings I’d retreat from the laughter of innocent babes, to my own dark corner for my own special deed.
I wasn’t anything crazy like a murderer, but…I liked cutting worms in half.
I don’t know where or when I tried it first, but once I discovered the uniqueness of worms I was hooked.
The mind-boggling process went like this: I would cut a worm in half with a sharpened twig, and some orange stuff would spill from inside (like the fake cheese in Kraft Dinner). Then, in a miraculous act of science, the two worm halves would continue on their way. I interpreted this as creating new life, so I interpreted myself as a God. I also deduced that because I was cutting one worm into two shiny new ones, I was helping the worm population stay strong.
And wasn’t I also creating worm friends? Maybe the worm had been a loser-worm. Maybe no one would’ve played with that worm, but after cutting it in half, I’d supplied it with a loyal worm playmate!
I won’t pretend I didn’t think about cutting myself in half, so the two of us could be best friends, but that would require more than just a little sharpened twig.
A few weeks later on another rainy morning, I noticed the veteran new kid following close behind. We exchanged a few awkward looks, until he finally uttered a “Hi.”
I nodded and he asked where I was going, a cautious smile slowly spreading on his face. My face turned sunshine bright. A friend! And maybe even…a soul-mate?
“Let me show you.” First I led him to the trees to find the perfect twig. I sharpened it against the bark as he looked on.
We then returned to the pavement. I spotted a worm. And finally, I made the epic slice.
His eyes grew wide. “No matter, new friend,” I thought, “Have a little faith and I’ll explain.” I let him know that I’d created a brand new worm, that the worm population would grow, and that I’d given the original worm a new friend. Awesome times three? Why yes.
His response was a surprising one: “What’s wrong with you?! Psycho…”
I was more like a visionary, and maybe his “new kid malaria” was blinding him to that. All I knew was that a soul-mate in worm-cutting life was not to be.
I never cut again.
This story is one I’ve wondered about for years, and in a way it’s a metaphor for modern dating. How free can we really be with our crazy little quirks? How many future boyfriends have I lost from never filtering my madness? And come on, worm-cutting isn’t as bad as being a serial killer then storing all the fingernails as trophies (though being a serial killer on its own is bad enough). I literally thought I was creating more friendship and fun for all those worms. So where was my reward?
No reward for being a freak, I’m afraid.
And so, single friends, if we aim to be successful in dating, we’ll need to hide our love for trashy television, our occasionally disgusting eating habits, and our obsession with “ass-fetish” porn.
In closing, please remember this advice:
-Put on the mask and you shall find a mate. Forget the mask at home…and you’ll regret the hundred guys you never dated.
This was funny and kind of sad at the same time. Sorry to hear your worm cutting enthusiasm wasn’t shared by the boy with new kid malaria. On a semi unrelated note, I was reading Diary of a Worm to some of the kids at preschool and got to the page where he told his sister that “no matter how much time she spends looking in the mirror, her face will always look just like her rear end”. That cracked me up. Now when I see a worm I’ll think of how you were creating two faces and two rear ends…or 4 faces…or 4 rear ends…
hahahaha…..I think in a situation like this, we should ALWAYS go with 4 rear ends 😉
I say cut the worms to your hearts content! It may take 200 boys but its totally worth it when you find someone who likes cutting worms just as much as you 😉
worm-cutter! WORM-CUTTER! Anyone???…anyone?…Bueller?…Bueller?… 😉
Sometimes I think you have to be crazy to find love. Every day I’m presented with someone who is a nut job, and yet they’ve found a partner in life. I wonder, how in the hell did this person find someone? And then I realize I must not be crazy enough.
but…I must already be crazy enough…so what gives? Do I have to enroll myself in a mental hospital? But then that would present a whole other host of challenges in terms of free time for dating, etc 😉
No doubt (if he knows you today) that boy is looking back wishing he was more tolerant of your worm whacking ways. 😛
Ah, Romi… at least we still have “ass-fetish” porn. 😉
I’m pretty sure ass-fetish porn will survive the apocalypse 😉
Romi, you are so pretty and funny, I honestly have no idea why you aren’t with a great guy. All I can say being a former “slightly older single lady” is this – it’s tough out there, and I was glad I never settled for someone less. When I least expected it, I met my hubby married him as “older” than the norm. Who cares when it happens, just tell yourself “hell yes I waited, and look at what I got, mmm hmmm” once you fight the right man for you! Plus, you may get a book deal out of all of these idiots!
hahaha…you are so sweet and I just want to hug you. That is all 🙂 xo
Funny and sad. Of course, at nine, the boy couldn’t possibly understand your tender heart :). One day, your love will come :).
a cutter of worms with a tender heart…indeed 😉
I’m really worried about you. LMAO
if only this wasn’t the worst of it!! LOL 😀
He was a psycho for not understanding your enthusiasm. Jerk. Have you looked him up on Facebook? I’m sure he’s fat and bald now.
I always check, haha…couldn’t find him on there 😉
Take heart Romi, at least you never told the nastiest girl in your class about your imaginary friends…I did and she told everyone else.
Pretty humiliating for me until Roy (a little boy in my class) took the focus off me by eating paste and filling Mrs. Wellington’s shoes with chocolate pudding.
Anyway the moral is: I got married and he knows all my little quirks. I say hold out for a fellow worm-cutter!
I know this is unrelated, but I would totally eat chocolate pudding out of a shoe…it’s SOO good!
PS: also, I love hearing stories like yours; never give up, NEVER SURRENDER!!!! 😀
Dude. I just texted you to make sure you knew that I had just read this – and that we are worm cutting soul mates. I looooved doing that. Gill would always look on in horror! Hooray for worm cutting madness!
again, let me state that I am amazed and thrilled to have a worm-cutter connection with you 😉
Romi, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! How could you give advice to your single ladies like this:
“And so, single friends, if we aim to be successful in dating, we’ll need to hide our love for trashy television, our occasionally disgusting eating habits, and our obsession with “ass-fetish” porn.”
Hide my love for trashy television? Then what do I have?
How’s the book coming along? I want to know more about it. Email me if you ever need an extra set of curled eyelashed eyes: firstname.lastname@example.org
but sometimes it’s like giving tough love to the ladies 😉
PS: I’ll email you soon about the book! 🙂