A Typical Day in High School

27 Apr

(A Monday morning in high school. Two students are speaking to each other at a lunch table.)

STUDENT 1: Dude, my weekend was so crazy. I had a few kids over Saturday night, and things got pretty wild. (laughs)
STUDENT 2: Yeah, I had a pretty sick weekend, as well. I told, like, 20 kids to come over and it ended being about 150.
S1: My house was pretty trashed afterward. I spent all Sunday cleaning up. I’m pretty sure someone took my goldfish. They left the bowl and stuff, but the fish was just gone afterward.
S2: Same here. Someone did a belly flop out of a second floor window and shattered all of my patio furniture on the way down. I’m going to be grounded for months.
S1: Someone at my house brought a two-hundred foot hose to my house. During the party, I guess they ran it upstairs, hooked it up to the faucet outside and just started pumping water into my parents’ bedroom. Then, some other guy runs up the stairs with a bucket full of barely-alive fish, and he throws them all into the water and locks the door. The next day, after I waited for a lot of the water to leak down through the ceiling under the bedroom, I opened the door and it just reeked of stale water and dead fish. What a weekend.
S2: If you think that’s good, one of the kids that showed up to my house that night? Turns out, he’s a 46-year-old DEA agent who retired to live the life of his suspects. He moonlights as a street mime, and he has this beautiful motorcycle parked out front.
S1: Wait, what does the mime thing have to do with it?
S2: Absolutely nothing at all. So we get out to the motorcycle, and like clowns in a tiny car, we manage to cram thirteen kids on the bike at once. The mime guy just cranks the gas, and the next second we’re going 130 in a residential area. In a proud moment of defiance, some of us reach out and grab those plastic stand-up turtle things and embellish with all sorts of profane and anatomically-correct declarations of protest.
S1: I can top that. As I’m going outside to turn off the hose, one of the guests comes up to me and hands me a drink. I take one sip and I’m out like a light. I woke up hallucinating that I was the ham in a Cuban sandwich, so I’m so distracted and confused that I don’t realize where I am. A few minutes later, I realize I’m riding a statue of a horse in the middle of some bustling city square, and everyone around me is screaming and cheering in Spanish. Another few minutes, and I’m aware that I’m wearing full military garb from the waist up.
S2: Waist down?
S1: Moving on, I dismount the statue and start looking for the American embassy. As I’m looking for the embassy, the people in the streets just part like the seas in front of me, and they’re all just cheering “El capitán” as I walk past. The rest of the details are pretty foggy, but all I know is I woke up the next morning in my parents’ bed, wrapped up in the soaking sheets cozied up to a largemouth bass.
S2: I love the weekends.

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