Read Band Fags! Online

Authors: Frank Anthony Polito

Band Fags! (15 page)

#2—Though she says she likes
Bloom County
better, she also likes the comic strip
Arnold
by Kevin McCormick. Which is totally my new favorite since I first read it in the
Free Press
this past Summer. In case you don't know,
Arnold
is all about this big-nosed short kid named—you guessed it—Arnold, and his friend, Tommy, who is taller and kind of a Geek. They're both in like junior high, so they spend a lot of time in the cafeteria talking to Bertha the Lunch Lady.

One of my absolute favorites so far is from this past June 9
th
. Tommy's standing in the Lunch Line with his tray of meatloaf when all of a sudden we hear Arnold scream from out of the frame, “It moved!” Arnold then goes on to inform Bertha that throwing raw hamburger against the wall and yelling, “Die, Cow, Die!” isn't the way you tenderize meat. All the while, Tommy's got his usual wide-eyed blank expression on his face…Totally hilarious!

The next morning before 1st hour English with Mrs. Malloy, I find a card from Alyssa stuck inside my locker—#1427. Right outside the cafeteria near the Gym.

On the front of the tan speckled envelope, Alyssa's written To Mr. Jackson L. Tightwad. Even though I told her my real first name is John and my middle initial is R. I guess she got the “Tightwad” part from the fact that I told her my Dad's one and I take after him when it comes to spending money. Below that it says, From The Blinker. Complete with a doodle of closed eyes with lashes. Stemming from the fact that Alyssa totally blinked when they took her Homecoming “Top 25” picture.

On the front of the card is a cartoon hand pointing to a red box with the words “Scratch and Sniff.” Upon opening it, the words “Very good! What other animals do you do?” appear. Followed by Alyssa's own addition, How about a cow? Ha, ha. Love, Alyssa. Stemming from the
Arnold
comic strip and “Die, Cow, Die!”

Inside the card, I find the following handwritten note on teddy bear stationery…

9/22/85
9:57 PM

Dear Jackson L. Tightwad, (What a bitch, I know!)

Why the Hell did I ever come back home? She's gonna be sorry if she starts anything with me and I leave again. Anyway, thanks for calling to say good night. It was really nice of you. “Arnold” was pretty funny this week but “Bloom County” was funnier.

I don't think I ever answered your question about “Waiting Games.” The book isn't mine. It belonged to a girl from my church. You probably wouldn't appreciate it as much as “Sooner or Later.” It's all about how Jessie finally gets laid and thinks she's preggers but she doesn't know for sure. (Gee Alyssa, you sure know how to ruin a story!)

Sorry again about Saturday. You looked pretty pissed off most of the night. But Lou thought you guys were fun to hang out with. Especially Brad. What a crazy guy!

So can I ask you a question? It's kind of personal, so you don't have to answer but I've been thinking about it a lot. Why do you always look so down on yourself? I don't think you realize what a cool person you are. You said people often tease you about being sensitive and caring. Fuck them! They're the ones who suck, Jack. Not you. But let me tell you something. If you happen to fall madly in love with someone, don't tell them too much about you too soon. Not unless you know they feel the same way. Because I've got a feeling you're the kind of guy who gets hurt easily and I don't want that happening to you. Maybe that sounds crazy but I know how sensitive you are. We've got a lot more in common than you think!

Well darling, it's time for me to get going. See you later. Write back if you get a chance. Take care! Love, Alyssa (what a signature)

P.S. Tomorrow we find out who makes “Top 5.” Blinkers are disqualified automatically!

P.P.S. What about lunch in the cafeteria? If so, wait by my locker (249).

As it turns out, Alyssa does not get elected to Homecoming “Top 5.” However, Freddy Edwards does. Remember the Total Babe Band Aide from 2
nd
hour Varsity Band back in 7
th
grade? Believe it or not, after all these years of being Mr. Popular Wrestler, Freddy still plays sax in the Marching Band and Wind Ensemble. Unlike most of my friends who all dropped out once we got to Hillbilly High. Like Lynn Kelly and Shelly Findlay and Katy Griffin. Even Bobby Russell no longer sits next to me after doing so for three years on account of he thinks our teacher, Mr. Klan, is a Total Fag—just because he's over 35 and he's never been married.

It looks like all that's left of my Band Friends are Ava Reese, Carrie Johnson, and Brad, of course. Sometimes I think he and I are gonna be Band Fags forever…

God, I hope not!

You Spin Me Round

“All I know is that to me

You look like you're lots of fun…”

—Dead or Alive

What the Hell was I
thinking?

How come whenever you take photos—on vacation, during the holidays, wherever—they never turn out the way you imagine they're going to at the time you're actually taking them?

It's like you remember things being one way while you're living the moment. Then three months later, once you've mustered up enough energy to take the film in for developing—on top of paying an exorbitant amount of money to Arbor's or Kmart's or wherever it is you took them—you get the photos back, only to find that the images depicting your vacation or holiday or whatever look
nothing
like how you imagined they would at the moment you imagined them.

Like this one of me taken Up North at my Grandpa's cottage this past August…Standing on the faded-wood planked dock down by the lake, I'm wearing my green and gold Warrior Marching Band windbreaker, white hi-top tennis shoes, and teal blue sweatpants. I distinctly remember posing for the camera, fishing pole in hand, a smile upon my face, thinking I looked perfectly fine. But examining the photo now in October, I can't even believe I'd go out in public like that!

I mean, granted it was a very windy day. But the pouf-ball of hair on my head makes me look like Richard Simmons! At least according to Brad. Not that he looked any better in his light blue Speedo, crammed inside the middle of this gigantic black rubber inner tube we found.

Boy is that a story…

After
much
begging and pleading, Brad's Mom said it was okay for him to spend ten whole days Up North with me and my family at my Grandpa Freeman's cottage in Gaylord. Which is just above your middle knuckle if you do the Michigan hand map thing. On one of our daily sunbathing trips to Otsego Lake, Brad and I came across this beat-up old tool shed off to one side of the dock.

“Something tells me we're not supposed to go trespassing in there,” I told Brad as he was about to do just that.

“It's not like it's locked,” he informed me with regards to the blue and silver Master lock attached to the plywood door. He deftly removed it, tossed it aside, and took a peek inside. “Well, well, well…What do we have here?”

Amid a clutter of regulation orange life jackets, old wooden row boat oars, and ratty aluminum lawn chairs, we discovered one gigantic black rubber inner tube. I'm telling you, this thing was huge! It had to be like three feet in diameter if not four. I'm betting it came from a semi tire or something, that's how big it was.

Which brings us to another one of Bradley Dayton's harebrained schemes…

For no other reason than he's totally crazy, Brad came up with the idea that we should: (a) take the gigantic black rubber inner tube up the twenty or so maroon-painted steps that lead down to the faded-wood planked dock, (b) climb inside, and (c) roll ourselves down in it.

To which I replied, “No fucking way!”

“Come on!” Brad pleaded. “It'll be just like in the Mountain Dew commercial.” Then he assured me, “We can totally test it out first.”

Why I always let Brad talk me into these crazy things, I have no idea. But the next thing I knew, we were hauling the gigantic black rubber inner tube up the twenty or so maroon painted steps. Upon reaching the summit, we placed it on its side. Then we gave it a push…

Round and round she went. Down the steps, across the dock, into the lake. Smooth as silk.

“Who's first?” Brad asked once we retrieved the wet rubber from the cool lake.

“This was
your
idea,” I reminded him. Enough said.

Back we went to the top of the hill, gigantic black rubber inner tube in tow. At the top, I helped Brad climb into the center.

“What are you doing?” he asked me as I took out my camera.

“Capturing the moment for Posterity's Sake,” I replied. Then I snapped Brad's photo and prepared to give him the old heave-ho.

Wait!” I watched as he literally put his foot down to stop from rolling away. “You better go down to the bottom and be there to catch me…Just in case.”

I scoffed before replying, “There is no way in Hell I'm gonna get knocked flat on my ass when that thing comes barreling down those steps at 100 MPH.”

“Fine!” Brad exclaimed, wiggling his way out of the black rubber donut. “I'll go…When I get to the bottom, roll the tube down and I'll see if I can stop it.”

So what do you think happened?

When the gigantic black rubber inner tube came barreling down the steps at 100 MPH, Brad totally got knocked flat on his ass. Needless to say, he did
not
climb back inside at any point after that, nor did he ever roll down the hill “just like in the Mountain Dew commercial.”

Later that night, back at the cottage we all sat around with my Aunt Sonia and Uncle Mark, who came up to visit for the weekend, telling Ghost Stories. Which totally freaked both me and Brad out. So much so that at 3:00 AM, he woke me up
begging
me to hold his hand while he went to the bathroom.

“Can't you just wait till morning?” I pleaded, not wanting to open my eyes for fear of actually waking up.

“No,” Brad whined. “'member how I wasn't feeling too good so your Mom gave me that Correctol?”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Brad continued. “The box said ‘The Gentle Laxative'…So I took
three
just to be safe.”

Needless to say, Brad spent a good portion of that night giving sacrifice to the Porcelain God in my Grandpa Guff's bathroom…And to this day, I haven't let him live it down!

Three months later, not a whole lot has been happening…

Tonight, I'm having a Halloween party. Which is the big excitement in my life at the moment. I figure since I have a bunch of new friends, it'll be fun for us to get together outside of school for a change. With the help of my Mom, I found this frumpy old housedress that belonged to my Grandma Freeman before she died. I put rollers in my hair and a hairnet on my head. Then I put on a pair of my Mom's panty hose rolled down to my ankles, along with her pink fuzzy bath slippers. Top it all off with a pair of black plastic framed glasses I found in my brother's toy box, and voilà! Instant Aunt Edna from
National Lampoon's Vacation.

Brad's the first to show around 7:00 PM. He's got on this slinky purple dress, fake pearls around his neck, and tits down to his navel. On his head he's placed a curly gray wig and perched a pair of wire-framed glasses on the end of his freckled nose. “Just call me Whorey Dorey,” he declares. Which is the name he's given to his Old Lady Prostitute.

“Don't tell me what you got in that thing,” I say when he hikes up his dress, revealing a silver metal flask strapped to his thigh. “If my Mom finds out you brought booze to my party, she'll kill you!”

When Audrey arrives wearing an old pair of Mickey Mouse ears as her costume, Brad calls her “Lame…”

“Bite me!” Audrey snaps, in typical Audrey style.

“Who are
you
s'posed to be?” he asks Alyssa after she appears dressed in a long pink nightgown, her hair in pigtails, carrying a large plush Opus from the
Bloom County
doll.

“That's for me to know and you to find out, Sophomore!” she answers, in what I'm pretty sure is her Pee-wee Herman impersonation. Though I
still
haven't seen his
Big Adventure
yet. Personally, I think Alyssa looks kinda cute. Especially with the freckles she's eyebrow-penciled on her nose and cheeks.

I haven't quite figured out what's up between her and me. It's like we eat lunch together in the cafeteria all the time. And we talk on the phone almost every night before we go to bed. But it's not like we're officially going together or anything. Maybe it's because I haven't actually
asked
her? I don't know. All I know is…I do like Alyssa. And I'm pretty sure she likes me, too. Otherwise, why would she spend so much time hanging out with a Sophomore?

I've gotta say…Lou's costume comes as more of a surprise—not! The minute I hear “Falling in Love Again” as she descends the stairs into my parents' basement, I know right away what to expect. Though I have no idea where she got the Marlene Dietrich top hat and tails from. Maybe Randazzo's? Which is a tux rental place in Sterling Heights—not to be confused with Randazzo's Pizza in Hazel Park.

As my parties usually are, this one ends up being a Total Blast. At first I'm not sure how my new High School Friends are gonna react when I serve up Ritz crackers with Cheez Whiz and suggest we play Spin-the-Bottle. But it's what we've always ended up doing at my Boy/Girl parties in the past.

“Out of my way, Sophomore!”

Cheri Sheffield is the first to spin. Also a Senior at HPHS, she's been Alyssa's Best Friend since like 8
th
grade back at Beecher. Which is the
other
Hazeltucky junior high where all the Burn-Outs go. Though neither Cheri nor Alyssa are what I would call “Burn-Outs” so I guess there goes that theory. She kinda reminds me of Mallory from
Family Ties.
Only Cheri's blond beneath the long dark Witch's wig she's wearing, complete with green-painted face, long crooked nose, and wart right on the end. She's also a little on the heavier side. Not that Cheri's fat or anything, 'cause she's not. But like Audrey, she's a bigger girl. Like 5'8" maybe?

Even though she was good about dressing up for the party, I thought Cheri would totally object to playing such a baby game. But she totally grabs the Mountain Dew bottle from my hand and spins away. “What if I land on a girl?” Cheri wonders. And she does as it comes to a halt on her younger sister, Elizabeth, aka Betsy.

Also a Sophomore, Betsy and I met in Mrs. Carey's French 1 class this semester. She looks cute sitting across from me in her maroon and gray Hillbilly High JV Cheerleading uniform. She kinda reminds me of that girl from
Square Pegs,
Sarah Jessica Parker. Only much prettier. Though looking at her and Cheri sitting side by side, it's hard to tell they're even related. Considering Betsy's hair is brown and she's a lot thinner.

“I'll take your turn for you,” Cheri's boyfriend, Erin Ahrens, jokes. A Junior tri-tom player in Marching Band, Erin is also 1st chair clarinet in Wind Ensemble. I've gotta admit, he looks totally cool in his homemade Vampire costume, complete with fake fangs. Though if you ask me, having a name like Erin Ahrens seems a little redundant, don't you think?

“You are not kissing my sister!” Cheri objects, turning crimson at the thought.

“I'll do it,” offers Lou, sounding totally serious. Looking at her closely now, with her shoulder-length bobbed hair tucked up under that top hat making her nose seem even more prominent, I realize who Lou kinda reminds me of…That guy who played the Burn-Out in
The Breakfast Club,
Judd Nelson. Of course, I don't tell Luanne that. She'd probably kick my ass.

“You are not kissing my sister, either!” Cheri squeals. And with that, she gives Betsy a peck.

As luck would have it, Betsy's spin of the bottle lands directly on Yours Truly. Though being only time #1, all I get is a kiss on the cheek. “Our First Kiss,” I joke, before she plants one on me.

“Watch it there,” Alyssa threatens. Though I can't tell who she's talking to—me or Betsy. I wonder if maybe she's a little jealous?

I take my turn. Round and round she goes. Where she stops…

“Ooooooo,” Brad howls, looking down at the bottle now pointing at him. “How 'bout it, Jack?” Then he laughs.

“I'm not kissing you!” I state emphatically.

“Cheater!” Alyssa hollers. Followed by a chorus of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” from my overly enthusiastic guests.

“Fine!” I reply. “But it's only #1 so he's just getting the cheek.”

“More than Alyssa's gotten,” Lou says smugly. Which prompts another chorus of hoots and hollers from the Peanut Gallery.

Brad takes his turn, kisses Cheri.

Cheri spins, lands on Erin. For him it's like, “Been there, done that.”

Erin follows suit, landing on Miss Wojczek, whose face totally matches her hair when he leans over to kiss her cheek. “I promise I von't bite,” he tells Audrey, à la Count Dracula. Though he sounds more like The Count on
Sesame Street,
if you ask me.

To which Audrey comes back with, “What if I want you to?”

And the crowd goes wild!

The highlight of the evening ends up being when Brad's spin lands on Lou—3 times in a row—and they have to French. Right in front of everybody.

“Are you cool with this?” Brad asks Lou, his voice quavering a tad. “'cause I don't want you to think I like you…You know what I mean?”

“No!” Lou roars. “What the fuck
do
you mean?”

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