Wednesday, September 2, 2009

Me . . . Annoying???


The weirdest thing happened this week . . . suddenly, my friend Jack is too busy to return my frequent and charming emails. It even seemed like I might be bothering him, can you imagine? I don't bother people, they bother me . . . ask anyone in my family. I never annoy them. My younger brother was totally joking last week when he dreaded telling me about something that happened recently . . . when he said something to my mom like "Oh god, you know she's going to ask a million questions." And when my mom decided to do him a favor and break the news to me, she wasn't annoyed at all when I got to like the fifteenth question.



Well, ha ha. Someday, I will be sooooo busy with my new important job that I will have no time to bother any of them. And then they'll all be begging me to shoot an email, be available for a quick chat, or pose a few questions. Since Jack is too busy right now . . . I will share something that I've been trying to remember to tell him, unless I babbled about it incoherently at the reunion and don't remember. Oh and from now on, Jack will be referred to as BT.



Anyway, I grew to appreciate BT during a high school exchange trip to Japan, the summer after sophomore year. For some reason, he was the only one of my fellow exchange students who didn't annoy me during the entire trip. Not that everyone was totally annoying. There was just some intermittent travel fatigue. But BT was a very good travel companion.



The reason I'm bringing this up . . . there's an image from the trip that was somehow imprinted on my consciousness. It's a random memory that will come to mind whenever I feel like I'm bungling my way through something, which happens occasionally.



One night, a group of us exchange students went to a bar and drank "California Coolers." No one seemed to care that we were about 16 and I think we got pretty buzzed. After we left the bar, I was walking behind BT and he accidentally bumped into a motorcycle and knocked it over. His reaction was to pretend like nothing happened, and my mind kind of locked down on the moment when he nonchalantly started walking a little faster. I remember what the well-lit street looked like, his posture, almost what he was wearing.



It seemed like the funniest thing that had ever happened at the time. Largely because of the drinking, I'm sure. What I can't remember is whether BT was ignoring me as I cracked up or if he was laughing with me. Maybe he laughed a little later when safely away from the crime scene. I think I was the only one who saw what happened.



I have no idea why that made such an impression. Maybe because it was a little out of character for BT. But I swear, at the end of my days . . . when my life flashes before my eyes, that will be one of the images.

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