Throughout high school I was known as a nerd. It was so bad that my long term girlfriend had to be from another school where nobody knew that I liked to play with computers. During one brief breakup I did date a girl from my school, but she was in Jr. High and had no idea about the intensity of disdain that most people viewed me with.
So when I started hanging out at the mall or South Park it started to sink in as fact that as long as I talked to a girl who wasn't from Elizabeth Forward High School, I actually stood a chance at scoring a date with her. Because of the life-long ego-beating I was given, I never really set my sights too high and when I did I would invariably fuck things up.
For instance there was Kelly.
That's not her real name. I don't remember her real name.
What happened was that one weekend while her parents were away I was invited to a party at her house with a few of my friends. We arrived and things were going well when drama strikes. I play the concerned guy, help to calm things down and Kelly hints that we should go out sometime. I jump on the chance without thinking things through. You see, if I had paused for a few minutes, I would have realized that she was way to hot for me.
She was something along the lines of 5'4", beautiful face, great smile, wonderful tight 80's jeans and a rack that would make a moose jealous. Cheerleader, model, kind of intelligent too. I'm sure that right now, if I could remember her name and look her up, she's still freaking hot.
Well my loser ass did not have a license, or a car, and she had to pick me up at my moms house. None of this turned her off, but she did ask that I drive back to the part of town where the movie theater is.
About halfway to the theater, on a long and windy road, there stood a cocky groundhog on the white line of the road. Standing there - he looked right at me - our eyes connected and he didn't blink. Neither did I. I totally forglot about Kelly and the fact that we were on a date and that this is her car.
I plowed right over that mutherfucker.
(As an aside, I'd like to say that killing things isn't cool. I was a retarded teenage kid then. I grew up being taught that the only good ground hog was the kind who used his body to feed the opossums. Now, I think it's stupid to kill something that you won't eat yourself.)
Kelly screams, "Oh my god! You hit him on purpose didn't you?"
At this point I still had an out. I could have said that I was trying to swerve or that I thought he was going to run to the left so I turned the wheel right. I could have lied...
If you have read this far, you know I didn't. I told her the truth. She was upset and I tried dealing with it. We watched the movie and we drove home and she was ice cold to me. No kiss, no feel, no ever talking to her again. I went from uber geek loser in high school, to idiot redneck jerkwad with her circle of friends.
I was living in Oakland at the time with someone who I'm sure would rather go unnamed. It was right before I got involved in my next long-term relationship and there wasn't much to do in the morning besides listen to crappy radio morning shows.
The Rovolution (104.7) was having a Dating Game type of contest. I, having nothing better to do at that time of the morning, decided to call in. Asluck would have it I got on the show with my frist try.
It was me, some other dude and a girl who had to pick between us. The prize was dinner, drinks and a limo ride all around Pittsburgh. I didn't care so much about the date, but the dinner and drinks sounded nice and what the heck maybe the girl would be cute.
Well as the show goes on I'm stomping this guy's ass into the ground. His answers are boring and cliche. She laughed at all of my answers and asked me follow up questions. I had no doubt in my mind that this limo trip, and possibly the girl, were mine!
That's when we went to commerical.
We come back on the air and the DJ is hosting the "call in and help the girl pick" segment of the show. It goes pretty well with most of the girls picking me, that is until one girl gets on the phone and says something along these lines...
"Oh my god. Nathaniel Beall? I went to school with him and he was such a nerd! He was all into computers and stuff. Dungeons and Dragons too I'm sure. Like the biggest nerd you could ever image. Revenge of the nerds type nerd. But with long nasty hair. Do not pick him, trust me!!!"
I almost hung up right there.
The DJ asked me if I had a response. I couldn't outright deny being a nerd. That would never play. The best I could do was be cool enough to cast doubt on this girl's version of reality.
"I have no idea who that was, likely just another girl who I shot down."
(Ohhh smooth huh? I'm not sure what's worse. Running over an innocent little animal, on purpose, while on a first date with a hottie, or uttering the typically stupid "She's just mad because she can't have my dick" comeback.)
I was sunk. 15 seconds later she picked the other guy and yet again my loserdom was exposed to the world - only this time it's not a small circle of friends. It's the entire listening area of The Revolution radio station.
I take solace in knowing that the girl from my HS, whoever she is, is likely on Facebook or Myspace now being the nerd she accused me of being.