My father popped his heads into my room and zealously stated, “Wakey Wakey, Eggs and Bacey.” I routinely rolled my eyes when he entered to wake me up in the morning but that day was different because it was the third best day of the year after my birthday and Christmas. It was my best friend’s birthday party. When I entered the kitchen my father inquired, “Are you excited about Max’s birthday party?” My initial thought was, “Why does he always lead with rhetorical questions?” “Yes, Dad,” I muttered in an effort to demonstrate I was not going to hash out this conversation over breakfast. Living with me for as long as he had, my father caught on to my tone and did not bother introducing new questions that would go unanswered. As I grazed on my breakfast my mind wandered to thoughts of the epic adventure I was going to have later that afternoon. As soon as breakfast was finished, I began to ask when we were leaving for Max’s party. My father stated Max’s party was in six hours. I did not have a strong command of time but that seemed like a long time to wait. At first, I kept asking my father if it was getting close to the time to leave. My father’s patience for my constant need for updating did not last long. He responded by stating, “I will let you know when it is time to go. Please do not keep asking me. Do you understand?” I complied to avoid upsetting him further and having him overact, as usual, and make a rash decision like saying I would no longer be able to go to the party.
Finally, after hours of waiting, my father gave me the nod it was time to go to the birthday party. The party was held at an indoor inflatable jumpy house establishment. The party was going to be a classic and to aid in my father’s understanding of how great the party was going to be I explained in exhaustive detail all the crazy stunts I was going to perform with my friends. After repeating myself three times, in some variation or another, my father assured me that he had a good idea of what was to come and then requested we have a quite car ride until we got to our destination.When we arrived, Max was waiting for me. After the formality of exchanging pleasantries, we entered the large room with the jumpy house and went nuts. We both climbed the highest point of each side of the largest jumpy house machine and did cannonball-esq maneuvers on the padded inflatable floor. It was awesome. My adrenaline rush fueled me to jump from inflatable to inflatable, at times recklessly, as I pursued different obstacles with my friends.
After jumping around on the inflatables for over an hour, I was admittedly exhausted. Seconds after this realization I heard magical words ring in my ear, “Pizza time.” I ran toward the voice and discovered that there was still a seat available next to Max, which I took. As I chowed down on my pizza, another kid, who I had never seen before, sat down next to me. I was minding my own business, eating pizza, when the random new kid began aggressively blowing in my left ear. My first thought, “Why are you doing this?” Followed by, “Please stop that; it is creepy and weird.” I spoke freely and I firmly requested he stop blowing in my ear. The kid took a second to evaluate my request, while continuously shifting his head ever so slightly back and forth and up and down like a bug. I took his silence as acceptance of my request and proceeded eat my pizza. Seconds later the bug-eyed kid was back blowing in my ear. “You need to stop blowing in my ear.It is weird. I do not like it. Please stop,” I said. Radio silence again as his head began swerving again. I needed validation that this kid understood, so I followed-up, “Do you understand, capisce?”
Finally, the kid responded, “It’s Max’s birthday wish.” “This is completely odd,” I thought, but since Max was right next to me I could easily verify if this kid was telling the truth or not. I asked Max if his birthday wish was for that kid to blow in my ear while I ate. Max gave me a puzzled look as the other kid began laughing. The kid had set me up to look foolish. The Mark Twain quote: “It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt,” was fitting at that moment. Max dismissed the whole thing, as he didn’t have any prior context to formulate a conclusive thought on the situation.
I was raging on the inside but I did my best to keep my emotions from visibly showing. I tried to channel ideas to seek immediate revenge, but all my ideas were way over the top or petty. Feeling annoyed and defeated, all I wanted to do was to get away from this kid. I gathered my plate and napkin and headed for the trash. As I deposited my trash in the garbage can, I heard a loud scream. I pivoted and looked at what was going on, and what I saw amused me. The bug-eyed kid had knocked over a glass of fruit punch that spilled on a girl’s lap. I piled on, saying, “Oh this is bad.” The bug-eyed kid shot me a look of panic. It was at that moment that I realized the cup he knocked over was mine; I must have placed it next to him when I got up to go to the garbage can. I am not sure if I subconsciously placed my cup near him or if it was a total accident. Regardless, I knew I wanted to make this accident a big deal for two reasons: 1) I had a vendetta against bug-eyed kid; 2) I did not want a full investigation where I could potentially be implicated. I was overly vocal in providing oral testimony describing the events that had taken place. My biased opinion pinned the blame on the bug-eyed kid as he sat fidgeting, waiting for some form of punishment. My attempt to portray the bug-eyed kid’s actions, as willful misconduct, was not well received. As the party concluded the bug-eyed kid approached me as I was putting my jacket on, and proclaimed, “This isn’t over.” As a person who had never backed away from conflict, I wasn’t going to start then. I responded, “Bring it on like Donkey-Kong” and did the hand motion gesturing of a mic drop, then promptly left.