be

Last night we went up to the First Night celebration in Salt Lake. Besides being the most poorly planned public event of the year, I think it serves as a place for desperate people to find a hook-up. Not that I’m against the idea, just that I think I’m a little bit discerning.

As we were leaving the place a girl stopped Loyd and me and asked us if we’d had our first kiss of the year. She wasn’t a bad looking girl, but a little rounder than I usually go for. We looked at each other, not knowing what to say, and then I put my arm on Loyd’s shoulder, and he says “I’d had mine.”
The girl pretended that she thought that was cute and we walked away. That was my first time pretending to be gay to avoid a girl this year.

The Trax stop was crowded so we had to wait there for a while before getting on the train to go home. This girl across the street from us yelled “Happy New Year,” and I of course responded by yelling it back. Unfortunately, this drew the beast’s attention.
She yelled back that she knew me. I tried to ignore her and just kept being obnoxious to the passing cars, but she persisted, trying to think of where she would know me from. “Do you play bingo?” she yelled.
This of course, was too much, and I had to say that I did play bingo. This excited the creature, and it walked over to me, with a crooked walk and an uncanny ability to hold its belly out in front of its body. She said I went to high school with her, and asked how I’d been since then. I tried to be polite, but as soon as she was distracted for a moment I walked away as fast as I could.
That was my first time being chased by a bingo-playing monster this year.

We just walked a little further down the street to the far end of the Trax stop, and we walked past this old couple. I raised my hand to the man and said, “First high five of the new year!” He smiled and gave me a high five as I walked by. We then heard the old lady that he was with yelling at him that he had ruined her New Year’s Eve. We couldn’t understand everything that she was saying, so we weren’t quite sure what she was so mad about. Based on her accent she was probably Romanian (because she reminded me of a gypsy), so maybe a high five is just a dirty thing in her country.
While she was fuming and not talking to him, she walked over by me. She kind of stood there next to me for a moment, trying to be sly, like she had snuck up and no one knew we were talking. I was scared. I thought she was going to yell at me for doing something so inappropriate with her husband. Instead she leaned over to me and said, “Take a picture of the old man. I’ll tell you later.” I was afraid to upset her craziness, so I obediently took a picture of him.
She’d stopped talking to me, so I never found out what heck, but I deleted the picture because I started to feel guilty for helping her persecute the poor guy.
That was my first time breaking up an old gypsy couple this year.