Sunday, November 06, 2011

Me and Del Were Playing "Little Runaway."


Every time I walk to and from the gym, I pass the runaway hotline place, and I can see all the women manning the phones but mostly surfing the net, filing their nails, and bullshitting with one another. After all, who really calls that place? Are the types of kids who run away likely to know such a hotline exists, and if so, are they really going to want to call someone who is there to to talk people into going back home to their shitheel parents?

What's strange is that there is always at least one hot chick in there. If I were a single guy, I might be inclined to go in there with a backpack or maybe a napsack slung over a pole over my shoulder, act all frantic and ready to run away. They might look at me a little funny, seeing as I'm 34-years-old, but I bet they're so hard up for calls that they'd take me seriously. Then they would get all emotional, and there would be a big sex festival for all passerby's to see. It would be awesome . . .

I think I ran away a couple times as a kid, for no reason, really, because I had a great family - still do. I would just go off into the forest behind my house with a bag of chips in case I got hungry. I'd only be there a couple of hours and just go home. Probably when I ran out of chips. But I had a neighbor who once spent the night in a fort that we built out there because he got in a "fight" with his dad. He was kind of like the John Bender from "Breakfast Club" of our block. In fact, I think he still holds the number of detentions record at the local junior high. I wonder what he's doing these days? I should look him up on Facebook. He had a nerdy little sister who sent my other buddy on the block a very naughty letter when they were adults saying all the dirty things she wanted to do to him when they were kids, but I think he was already married when she sent it.



Where was I going with this . . .

Ah, yes. Running away. Don't run away, kids. If you do, give the hotline a call, and if I'm not there sexing all of them, I'm sure they'll give you the sage-like advice you'll need to go back to those shitheel parents of yours.

PS: The second picture has nothing to do with anything, you may notice. I did a search for "forest forts," and that's what came up. That looks like a very romantic way to spend an evening with a special lady friend, or a terrific way to burn your house down. Either way . . .

8 comments:

sybil law said...

I ran away a couple of times, too and I have no memory why. I'm sure it was pretty stupid, because I also had a great childhood!
We're like twins!
Loving that tent, actually. I'd rather be in that than our in the buggy wilderness, peeing behind a tree...

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Sybil: Man, you comment with the quickness! I really appreciate it. I'm actually happier with this post than I've been about any in a long time, so I submitted it to Dead Beats Literary Blog. You can find them on Facebook. Yes, peeing behind a tree is no good for anyone.

radioactive girl said...

John Bender from the Breakfast Club it super hot. At least I used to think so until I saw a movie Judd Nelson was in and he was horrible and scary and really freaked me out. I can't really look at him without being afraid now.

More on topic, I never actually ran away from home or even joked about it with my parents. They had a countdown until I moved out for good when I was in college and close to graduating. I think if I had threatened to move out, or ever did, (even when I was little) they would have changed the locks and not answered the door when I tried to get back in.

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

I think I know the movie you're thinking of where Judd Nelson is a nut job who kills people. I seem to remember him stuffing a body in someone's dryer . . .

CurlyKateMcGee said...

I had never run away from home as a kid because my parents are divorced and hated each other then it was easy to tell one that the other sucked. They would always agree with me and then buy me things to keep at their house and not to let the other one know. Kind of strange I guess, but having parents that thing the other is the shithead parent might have been better than a bag of chips in the woods, plus we only had golf courses by my mom's house and my dad lived in the city.

I have always liked forts though, and I used to make homes out of cardboard boxes when I was little. They had flashlights for lights in the roof and real opening windows. That second picture reminds me of the forts and I want to make one when I get home.

Dr. Kenneth Noisewater said...

Curly: You were a pro at playing both sides, Curly. You and the roommate should make some cool forts.

Sister said...

I remember running away to the corner . . . because I wasn't allowed to cross the street yet. Brilliant.

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