Thursday, March 14, 2013

Get to Stompin'

Teen on Train - "Just go talk to her, man."

Other Teen on Train - "I can't, man.  She's special, you know?"

Teen on Train - "If she was special, you'd go talk to her.  ...So can you make it to my party?  It's gonna be like, the whole crew."

Other Teen on Train - "I don't know, bro.  I don't have any money right now."

Teen on Train - "Dude, you just got a brand new iPhone."

Other Teen on Train - "My cousin bought me that.  I owe him like $150 for it."

Teen on Train - "So what's another $15?"

Other Teen on Train - "Dude, Home Run Inn costs $15?  No way I can do that.  Their frozen shit's like only $5."

Teen on Train - "Maybe with food stamps."

Other Teen on Train - "Dude, she just looked over here when you said 'food stamps'; now she's gonna think I'm on food stamps."

Teen on Train - "Bro, you are on food stamps."

Being 17 is hard.  Being poor is harder.

My best friend sucks the hardest, because he's both.

Don't get me wrong, my family doesn't shower in money or anything, like that cartoon duck with the hat, but if my best friend was having a going away party, someone would loan me $15 so I could make it.  I know his ass could borrow $15, he just doesn't want to. 

See, he and I have been friends for almost 4 years.  We talk about everything: girls, food, school, graduation.  It's like he knows me inside and out.  If he could just make it to my party, I'd know we'd be friends for, probably, ever.  You don't have connections like that with everyone, you know?

C's one of those dudes that's a hopeless romantic.  He's got crushes on all kinds of girls: big, small, smart, dumb, attractive, not.  He actually turns in assignments in Creative Writing Class, and his shit is pretty good.  He compiled it all in one of those binder things that you can get done on the cheap at FedEx Kinkos, and it was so good I skimmed like half of it.  He used a lot of words I didn't understand, like "e'er" and "ravishing", but with context clues, I got the gist.  Dude can write.

Being poor though, sometimes people don't see what's on the inside.  So he wears Penny IIIs over Penny Vs.  So his Supreme x Air Force 1s aren't so Supreme, and they definitely ain't low.  So his family don't own a TV, and he has to share a bedroom with his two younger sisters.  It's who you are as a person, last I checked.  The things you suffer through build character.  That guy's got some serious character, y'all.

And who knows?  Maybe his poetry will reach hundreds, thousands even.  Maybe his shit will get published, and he'll be famous and rich and all that American Dream shit everyone talks about.

Maybe they'll make a shoe after him.

You never know.  It'd probably be one of those shoes that has a flap on the front of it, and a picture of a dog and a man with one of those stick-bag things, but it would...nah, man.  I'm just playin' with y'all.  It would be a pretty sweet shoe, I bet.  Neon and shit.

Anyway, that's why I'm starting a fundraiser, "Get My Shithole Best Friend to My Going Away Party At Home Run Inn 2013".  I don't usually walk through the el asking for money, but this is really important to me, and I know it can be to you, too.

So I stole his poetry book, and photocopied pages that I will sell to you for $1 each, but anything you can give helps, even if it's change.  See, if you give, you receive, and one day your best friend might want you to go to a going away party, and you'll be able to make it because you bought this poem today.

Thank you for listening, and God bless and all that shit.  

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