“I know we promised no more stops until we reach the pizza place, but can we please stop?” I pleaded. “Because, we all smell rank.”

“Nope,” said Tum-tum, showing uncharacteristic stubborness. “A promise is a promise.”

“O, come on, Tum-tum, do we really want to be those  people at the pizza place?” I said, adding special emphasis with the hope that at least Thoreau or Boufanti would have some shred of insecurity.

“What people?” Tum-Tum asked innocently.

“You know,” I said, “Those people.”

“As a matter of fact, I don’t know understand what you’re saying either,” Boufanti said smugly. What does he have to be smug about?

“Yeah,” Tum-tum said, “Epi, who do you mean?”

I rolled my eyes, “You know the people that walk into a place and immediately everyone labels them ‘the stinky people.’”

“I don’t know anyone that does that,” Tum-tum said. His innocence was really starting to be inconvenient!

“Yeah,” Boufanti said, “Who  does that?”

“Well…you know…” I stammered. I can’t believe this conversation is making me look like a snob instead of as someone who cares about hygiene.

“Beware of all enterprises that require a new set of clothes.” Thoreau said in true Thoreau-ian fashion.

“Not you too, Thoreau,” I groaned.

“Seriously, Epi, don’t worry about it. It’s nearing midnight, I doubt we are the weirdest or stinkiest people going into that restaruant,” Boufanti said patting my shoulder. Again he smirked, smugly. Yeah, he is a smuggly smirker!

“Please, you all are guys so it doesn’t bother you to be gross. But, I am a girl so i care about things like hygiene.” I said, and the moment the words out of my mouth i realized that had Boufanti said them, i would have thrown a fit.

“That’s a sexist comment if i ever heard one,” Boufanti said.

“I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was that i don’t like being muddy and gross.” I replied. Which is a total lie. I could care less about dirt and mud, but i didn’t want to be stinky in front of Boufanti.

“If i had said something like that you would have called me a snob,” Boufanti said calmly.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“To tell you the truth, I’m just hungry, Epi,” Tum-tum said slowly. It was a miracle! Tum-tum had finally tapped his energy and was slowing down.

“Well, I am not going into anyplace smelling like a cow’s urinal” I said adamantly.

“Cow’s have urinals” Tum-tum asked in awe.

I rolled my eyes. Boufanti said, “Do you really mind it or is this just because social decorum require people to be suitably perfumed?”

“Are you saying that I want to be clean because everyone else wants me to be clean?” I asked pointedly.

“Yeah,” Boufanti said.

“Ah, we don’t care if you smell, Epi,” Tum-tum said supportively.

“I mind if i smell, ” I said

“Why” Boufanti asked

“Because it is disgusting. How are we going to be able to eat when i smell like an outhouse?”

“We all smell like outhouses,” Boufanti said.

Thoreau made a noise that sounded like an agreement and i looked to Boufanti. He shrugged.

“Let’s buck social decorum, protest to the world at large.” He said conspiratorially. “Let’s say “YES, WE SMELL. AND BY GOD WE’RE HUNGRY”

“YEAH!” Tum-tum cheered and pumped a chubby fist into the air, and eventually hitting the ceiling in my Aspire.

 ”Fine, let’s go get something to eat while we’re figuring this map out.” I relented. What the hey? This could be fun!

Now, to describe the Tikki Tokki Pizza Shoppie is possible. The problem is that unless you’ve been there you don’t really believe that a place like that exists. You’ve heard of Pizza Hut? Well, this pizzaria is literally a hut. It has this island motiff, but not that cool “50 First Dates” island motiff. It’s more like someone bought a surplus of plasic hawai’ian decorations and then realized how gaudy they were and sold them to the owners of this place cheap. All the workers wear these kahuna headdressses, guy or girl, although come to think of it-i’ve never actually seen a female employee. Anyway, so the outside is shaped like a hut, but the inside looks like it was supposed to be an office builiding. This place is pretty much the hang out for people who eat cannubis brownies or are lost tourists. inside is an old disco ball I am sure they bought from an old discoteque, and other random things that have been there probably since Mick Jagger was named sex in spandex.

I pulled into a parking spot with a spray painted pineapple  on the asphalt, and looked at the other stalls. They each had some island icon sprayed on them and i took special note of an Easter Island head. Someone had a lot of time on their hands.

“Look we’re on a spot with a pineapple on it!” Tum-tum shouted from the backseat. Nothing got past him, I thought sarcastically. We all got out and i saw a group of guys huddled around a picnic table. Boufanti and i watched Tum-tum as he made a mad dash across the parking lot and to the front door, Thoreau was more dignified and sped walked.

“Go fish,” I heard one of the guys at the picnic table say as we passed by. What are the odds? Whatever, I don’t think anything will ever shock me again after tonight.

“You both got the jhu-jhu to make pizza,” a scantily clad…is it un-p.c. to say savage? popped up suddenly in front of Boufanti and I. I take back the comment from the parking lot, there are some things that can still shock me. He was wearing a loin cloth, a huge head dress that reminded me of Captain Jack Sparrow (Man, is Johnny Depp hot!), and held a staff in his hand. Altogether he probably stood only about five feet three inches high.

“Excuse me?” Boufanti asked.

“Yous two got the spark that make the fire pizza,” He said. Boufanti looked at me quizzically, and it was my turn to shrug.

“Only once in a lifetime do two mortals got the fire. Immortal forever be, from two mortals spring.” He said and raised his staff in over his head. Okay, i thought, time to go.

“Fire pizza?” Tum-Tum asked curiously, joining us, “What does that taste like? Is it good?”

“It be the best pizza made by the hands of the gods. Many search across the planes for what you” he said taking his eyes from Tum-tum and pointing to each Boufanti and I, ” got day-to-day.”

“Can I get anchovies with that?” I asked disinterested. Boufanti elbowed me.

“No, anchovies, dumb girl, ” he said knocking me on the head with his staff, “Bettah than the fish. Bettah than the fruit. This you taste but no eat, this you smell but cand touch, and this you can feel without see. But, you got to protect this fire pizza, it can get eaten up.”

“Wait,” i reasoned to the insane man, “If you can taste but not eat how can it get eaten up? Doesn’t that mean i can eat this fire pizza?”

“There are things that eat that don’t draw breath.” He said enigmatically. Then, just like that, he exhaled and disappeared through the door leading to the kitchen.

“What was that all about?” I asked looking to Boufanti, who looked like he was pondering. You know when someone looks like they are pondering? They look different than when they are dividing 8374  by 7. I don’t know, you can just tell they are thinking something about something more important. And suddenly, I felt like i missed something.

We found a booth that was, big surprise, a pineapple yellow and slid in. Thoreau joined us, “I ordered some Cheezey Chopper Pepperoni Poppers and a large Rigatoni Zamboni Surprise pizza.”

“What the heck is that?” Tum-tum asked. Thoreau shrugged and we settled into that comfortable silence. I felt my eyes start to droop and my head sway, i was tired. Really tired. That’s last thing i remember.

When i woke up i was wrapped in Boufanti’s teal peacoat, that he had thankfully left in the car during the bovine tipping, and was leaning against his shoulder. He had an arm around me and another reaching for a Cheezey Chopper Pepperoni Popper. I sat up, “Uh, sorry.” I said,  sounding groggy even to myself.

“You fell asleep,” Tum-tum said cheerfully, apparently food re-energizes Tum-Tums.

“How long?” I asked. I felt refreshed despite how i sounded.

“Not long, only like 30 minutes,” Boufanti said popping a popper into his mouth. “Dig in, the pizza will be here any minute.”

Thoreau smiled at me from across the booth, and he nudged a bread plate over. I stretched and felt some kinks in my back work themselves out. The Rigatoni whatever-the-bucket-pizza arrived, and my stomach finally woke up. The waiter left and I realized that I hadn’t ordered a drink.

“Excuse me, but i didn’t order a drink,” I waved, but the waiter kept going. I guess he didn’t hear me.  

“We can share mine,” Boufanti said and put another straw into his Dr. Pepper. Maybe because i was tired, maybe because he wore a Boufant, or maybe i was eating whatever the heck a fire pizza was, but it was in that moment that i realized that i didn’t care if tonight didn’t last. Boufanti’s Ricky Martin mole, and Robert Pattinsonesque physique, all that really didn’t matter anymore. Sharing a soda with someone that cared, surrounded by my friends, was all i needed. It’s funny how something so small can really help you define who you want to be and the life you want to live.

My reverie and philosphic reflection was cut short by a shout, “Leonard!” We turned to see the savage from earlier, whose name was Leonard (go figure) up on the counter barefoot. He grabbed the microphone, that i assume is used to announce orders, and bent it’s silvery neck towards an old style turntable. The empolyees were desperately trying to stop him but, to no avail. Then, the musical stylings of Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock’N'Roll” livened up the speakers. I started laughing and Leonard hopped off the counter to race over to some tourists, from only God knows where, and encouraged them, “Dance!” The overweight woman wearing a fanny-pack looked hesitantly at her husband, who shrugged, and they got up and danced. Slowly, all the customers began to clap. Leonard went from table to table and encouraged everyone to dance.

Tum-tum, however, didn’t need any encouraging and jumped up to dance. Thoreau stood up and began to move in ways I didn’t know bodies could move. He was liquid-human and soon a circle gathered around him. Boufanti got up and offered his hand. I wasn’t sure, I mean i wanted to, but what if he was only being nice? I shook my head no and he rolled his eyes, “Come on, Eliphant,” and grabbed me while I laughed.

I don’t know if Boufanti is a good dancer, I don’t know that Tum-tum isn’t, and I don’t care. Everyone was just dancing and moving, when the steps don’t matter. The old disco ball was being used again, much to everyone’s delight, and Leonard was the funkiest most unexpected D.J.  in the world. The group of guys playing go-fish had come in and were doing the mash potatoe-miracles never cease-and even the shamed employees bobbed their heads to the music.

The song eventually ended, and Leonard put on the BeeGee’s “How Deep is Your Love?”. The tourist couple stayed out and swayed in each others arms, and a few couples littered the floor. I was prepared to go back to our booth, but Boufanti held my hand. I turned to see him ask, “Please?” My insides wanted nothing more than to stay with Boufanti, but reality was penetrating the fog this night had created. What about tomorrow? Who was Boufanti and what were we doing, really? Tomorrow I would be Megabookstore girl again, and he would be the boufant that walked into the store to turn Karen Kingsbury books around. I only had a few seconds to decide. There were no guarantees that this wasn’t a game to Boufanti, and in all likelihood it probably was only a game to him. Find a map, go on a hunt, live an adventure before college. That was a kind of bravery, wasn’t it? To try something new when you have spent most of your life doing things one way? The true question is, was i brave? Could i realize the adventure for myself?

“Okay,” I said slowly and walked with him back towards the salad bar.

Boufanti wrapped his arms around me and i leaned in close, watching the moving white dots the disco ball created against the walls. I always thought that if this moment came for me, you know the moments all girls think about? You don’t? I’ll tell you. Girls think about what will they do when the boy they totally have a crush on, whether they want to crush out or not, is in close proximity to them. I always thought that my heart would pound so loud that he would be able to hear it, or feel the pulse in my wrist as it explodes against my skin. But, i didn’t feel any of that. I felt peaceful, relaxed. It was like a pillowy cloud had settled around me and i could breathe for the first time in my life. I mean I did feel excitement, but i didn’t feel the nervousness that i thought came with the territory. That excitement was like when you’re looking at a house or apartment and, there’s that moment when you take your first step into the perfect place. You know you’re home. You see lazy saturday mornings where you both decide to take off your shoes and run barefoot in the park, and see days like graduation where you slave over invitations, what you’ll wear underneath your robe, and realize that all those details only matter because he’ll be there. Chekhov once wrote that finding the other peice to your heart felt like a breeze blowing across your soul. Maybe he’s right.

“You stink,” Buofanti whispered in my ear. Well, so much for that.

“Nice,” I said sharply, “I wanted to stop and get changed-”

“Let me finish,” Boufanti interupted me. I could feel emarassed steam shooting out of my ears. “You stink, but I like your kind of stink.”

How a Ricky Martin-Robert Pattinson-peacoat wearing-hottie can be so handsome and so bad with words is beyond me. But, you gotta hand it to him. He does have a sweet heart. I felt myself blush and mumbled a “thanks.”

“I wanna tell you something,” He said more uncertain of himself, “But, you aren’t going to like it.”

“What is it?” I asked. Here it comes, here is the moment where he tells me he’s into guys or already has a girlfriend or is part of a religion that requires we marry tomorrow and i have to bear him atleast 6.5 kids while wearing a papier mache`hat shaped like a hand. Or he is a secret agent for Canada, and they’ve finally had enough and want to take over America and after spending most of the night with me and the Megabookstore guys he is convinced we can be kept as pets. He’s a junky and was high the entire night and is sobering up and wondering where the heck he is or-

I never did find out what Boufanti wanted to say. We were interupted by Tum-tum who jabbed a chubby finger towards the parking lot where the Farmer was fastly approaching, and in his hand was a copy of our map. I looked for Thoreau to find him leaving a tip on the table at our booth. Boufanti grabbed my hand and we headed for the back door. Leonard stopped us, “No leave now, you only just begun.”

“While we appreciate your use of old song lyrics, we really have to go,” I said, glancing the farmer coming the other door.

“Uncle Leonard,” A middle-aged man said, coming from the  kitchen. “Let these nice kids go.”

“Can we go into the kitchen?” Tum-tum asked, “I’ve never seen the inside of a pizza kitchen before.”

The Farmer caught sight of us, and i desperately tried to shove everyone into the kitchen. Surprisingly, it worked. I think it’s mostly because i caught them by surprise instead not because of any strength i exhibited. Once inside the kitchen, I peeked out of the circular window on the kitchen door, the Farmer had been roped into a conversation with the tourist couple that had waltzed over.

“Now  what?” Boufanti asked

Once we were all packed in the Aspire and continued to Tiki Toppi Pizza Shoppie, the car was silent. Not an uncomfortable silence, a “we are friends and kinda tired” silence. I started to ponder as the Aspire hummed down the freeway. I would start college in the fall and probably have to work night shifts at the MegaBookstore. That would mean no more Tum Tum and probably very limited Thoreau. I snuck a sideglance at Bouffanti and realized that as much as I wanted to be friends with him in the future, the reality was that i am just a summer diversion in an otherwise seemingly trendy life. The thought made me tear up a little and i sniffled, great some water works, and i sniffled again. What is that? It’s like a burnt egg smell, with a hint of…gross! One of the boys-

“Tum-Tum, that is nasty!” I said, breaking the cone of silence

“I can’t help it, Epi!” He said red-faced.

Bouffanti looked over at me in confusion then i saw his O-so-beautiful-eyes widen in realization, “Dude! what the heck?” I checked the rearview mirror to see Thoreau unaffected by the stench emitted by the still shammed Tum-Tum.

“Just roll down the window,” i said rolling my eyes. But, when the windows were rolled down the smell got worse. I looked at Tum-tum, not convinced that his flactulence had that kind of power. The power to influence the atmosphere-no wonder we have global warming! We have Tum-Tum unchecked or regulated by the EPA!

“Epi, see it’s the cows,” Bouffanti said pointing his graceful index finger to the offending bovine. I like the word “bovine”, i mean how much cooler a word is it than “cows”? Sir, can you cut me a piece off that fine-looking haunch of bovine? Okay, it is time for a coffee stop. I’m starting to get delirious.

“Can we go cow-tippin?” Tum-tum said, now perked up. “I’ve never been cow-tippin’ before and i think it would be so cool!”

“Dude, we just thought you pulled a funky and now you want to go to the funkiness?” Boufanti asked incredulous.

“Why not?” Tum-tum asked, clearly not seeing Boufanti’s point. And, to be honest, i wasn’t either.  I mean yeah the bovine, hee bovine, smelled but isn’t there a better argument for not going cow-tipping?

“What about the map?” I asked.

“Aw c’mon, that tiki shoppie peperonni whatever, doesn’t close until 2 a.m. we got time.” Tum-tum reasoned.

“I’m game, ” Boufanti said, clearly his resolve for not doing something had been broken.

“It’s dangerous, ” I countered, “and what if we get gross and have to go home? then, we can’t go to the pizza toki tippsie.”

“Why not?” Thoreau chimed in. Once again, Thoreau chimes in to persuade us to do something completely random and stupid and…slightly illegal.

“Thoreau, really?” I asked.

“We can’t, ” Boufanti said, siding with me, “Epi is scared to do it. She wants to, she is just scared.” So much for siding with me.

Scared?!  “I’m not scared,” i said, “I just don’t want to do it.”

“Right,” he said nodding.

“Epi, don’t be scared, ” Tum-tum said empathetically.

“I’m not scared. It’s just cow tipping isn’t my idea of fun.” I tried to air my nose the way, I’m sure, Boufanti does.

“See, guys, i told you.” Boufanti said. ooo, that irritates me!

“Fine, ” I said pulling the car over then inched my car away from a light pole. “Let’s tip a cow and then get back on the road.” I said.

Tum-tum’s imfamous hand clapping insued.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

I can’t believe I am here, in the middle of a field full of cows, preparing to tip a cow with Boufanti at the helm. he had taken off his peacoat and rolled up his abercrombie and fitch button-up.

“We will all have to work together, ” Buofanti instructed us, much like Gene Hackmen from “Hoosiers”. Tum-tum nodded and Thoreau stratched his chin, and i rolled my eyes. My converse were sinking into the mud and i was pretty sure that the mud was seeping into my socks. “On the count of three.”

The four of us got into stance and waited for the signal. “One,” Boufanti counted.

“We should come up with a war cry,” Tum-Tum suggested.

“Two,” Boufanti counted

“That’s a good idea, ” Thoreau agreed.

“Three!” Boufanti shouted, and we all darted forward towards the unsuspecting cow.

“Bovine!!” Tum-Tum screeched, as Boufanti face-panted into the mud. I lost control and started laughing at both, Boufanti covered in mud and the word “bovine.” Thoreau turned around to look at me. By the time I stopped laughing and pointing, Boufanti, Thoreau, and I turned to see Tum-tum run smack-dab into said bovine then hit the mud. However, there wasn’t time for us to laugh at Tum-tum as a farmer emerged as a silhoutte in the light of his open door frame. I stepped forward to run but quickly beefed it next to Boufanti, and i watched in horror as the farmer raised a shotgun to take aim at Thoreau.

I did the only thing that i could think of and grabbed a steaming clump of mud, we all know what it really is, and threw it at Thoreau’s head. As it impacted on his face, it did not have the desired result.

“How was that supposed to help?” Thoreau asked very calmly. Then, he turned and charged back towards the Aspire. Tum-tum, with grace as if on roller skates, blithely followed after him. I debated whether grabbing Boufanti and making a run for it but, felt that a bullet in my chest would look better to my parents than a bullet in the back. What am i talking about?

MegaBookstore Handbook with Bathroom graffiti:

Standard 12374.1a: Acceptable behavior in a life-or-death situation: Under circumstances that are, by definition, dire the following variation of behaviors are acceptable.

                1q: Bargaining with whatever is on-hand or off-hand. Examples include older people with the reasoning being that they have less vigor to offer in times of war. A first born child with the promise that you hang a medallion around their neck with the reasoning  being that it “worked before.” Or the person next to you, with the reasoning being that there is “instant gratification.” A small pouch of beans stating that “you never know what may happen.”

                 1r: Crying or otherwise bawling eyes out. Your life is about to end! It is okay to show emotion

                 1s:Anger. Who says they get a say in what you do or when you do it? I say, fight to the death!

*note: all behaviors are voided in the event that you are the culprit of the most heinous action-cow tippin’ or bovine bowling.

 Boufanti and i just sat there in the mud and waited for the farmers decision. I was sure that we were going to jail if not being killed, and suddenly death didn’t sound so bad.

Finally, the farmer came forward and offered me a hand, “Here you go, young lady.” I let him help me up and watched him help Boufanti up.

“I have question for you kids,” The farmer said, “Why do cows need tippin’?”

I don’t really have an answer really, I’m a victim of peer pressure. I can’t really say that because, well, that sounds really bad. Boufanti, was silent as well, so i gathered that he didn’t have an answer either.

“Well?” The farmer asked, raising his shotgun.

“Because we thought it would be fun?” I asked, hoping that i wouldn’t hear a loud crack in the next 5 seconds.

“That’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard.” He said, then shook his head, “Well, come on in and get cleaned up the best you can.  We’ll have a visit.”

We followed him into his house which was decorated, big surprise, in cow/bovine theme. I took my now thoroughly mudded converse and left them at the door and the farmer pointed to the bathroom, “There’s the bathroom but, i don’t think that’ll help much. Come on, and follow me.” I looked to Boufanti, who shrugged, but I was worried. I’d seen “Walker, Texas Ranger” and knew that we could end up being the farmers third and fourth wives, with mandatory whippings at the whipping pole!

The farmer led us to his backyard where he was hooking up a hose. No, i was not being hosed down. No way, I may have acted like an idiot, sure, but no hose!

“Come on, now” the farmer said irritatedly when neither boufanti or i moved, “i could call the cops instead.”

I stepped forward with Boufanti as the farmer began to spray us down. Jeez the water is cold! I thought and huddled to Boufanti, who was taking it like a man. Yeah, whatever Mr. Ricky Pattinson. “C’mon, girl, you’re not going get clean until you just endure it.” I exhaled and squeezed my eyes shut and let the cold water consume me.

After getting cleaned up the farmer made us some coffee. Nice warm brown coffee.

“So, y’all thought it’d be funny to tip over my cows,” the farmer said, “Well, what if someone tipped you over while you were having yourself a nap?”

“That’s happened before,” i said absentmindedly. Stupid Tum-tum. One afternoon last spring, no one was in the store and i began to doze at the front counter. Tum-tum came by and just pushed me over. I woke up from when my face slapped the faux carpet from the store.

“Did you like it?” He asked

“No, stupid Tum-Tum,” I said bitterly.

“Is that the little fella that works over at the bookstore?” The Farmer asked

“Which bookstore?”Boufanti asked. He was probably trying to protect Tum-tum and Thoreau with the fact that we had a Barnes’N'Nobles  in town.

“The only one i go to, ” The Farmer said, “The one with the uniform she’s wearing.”

“Yeah,” I said. I was so getting fired.

“I love that little fella,” The Farmer smiled warmly, “He just reads those romance novels and eats M&M’s. He wouldn’t hurt a soul.”

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times. Stupid Tum-Tum.

“You know,” the Farmer added pointedly, “He’d never tip a cow.”

  Just then a little plastic hot dog fell in the middle of the room. What the–? The farmer looked down at the little plastic hot dog and we all watched as it wound it’s little rubber-band motor along an attached string. That little hot-dog looked familiar and i looked to Boufanti who was trying not to laugh.  I watched as the farmer followed the little plastic hot dog to the kitchen and right to the kitchen door. Boufanti grabbed me and we made for the front door, when we opened the front door Thoreau was waiting for us; he quirked an eyebrow at Boufanti and I,  then yelled, “Purple Pink Unicorns!”

From behind me i heard the Farmer say, “What the the-?” I hazarded a look behind me to see a mud-clad Tum-Tum wearing sequin sandals, on a cow. O hell, i thought, as Boufanti grabbed my hand and we ran for the Aspire.

Once, inside the Aspire I turned to Boufanti, “What about Tum-Tum?”

Thoreau answered, “Just wait.”

Sure enough, about a minute later, from where i don’t know, Tum-Tum emerged in the backseat and we were off to the Tiki Toppi Pizza Shoppie.

“What kind of plan was that?” I asked.

“Well, weren’t going to leave you,” Tum-Tum said, “And all i had was the hot-dog key chain and pair of sandals for my mom.”

“So, we decided a shock and awe strategy was best,” Thoreau interjected calmly.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. I love my friends, but sometimes they scare me.

“No more stops until the Pizza Plopsy, agreed?” Boufanti said. To which all of us heartily agreed.

 

 

The music changed from the Vanilla Ice to some song I didn’t recognize, but one that enthused Teenie-Booper Thing1 and her compadres. I took this as my cue to get off my friends and return my skates, that and the fact that i was starting to get used to the sweaty-popcorn-vomit smell that they were emitting…and that scared me. Anyway, once we got back to my Ford Aspire Tum-Tum shoved himself in the shotgun seat before Boufanti could even scoff in his o-so-posh manner.

“So, what is next on the map?” I asked, not directing my question to anyone in particular.

“I’m not sure but the picture on the map looks like Principal Whittier’s house,” Tum-Tum said. Thoreau, whose age i really don’t know, cleared his throat, “Robbert is still at the High School?”

“Robbert?” I asked pointedly, hoping Thoreau’s character would break for a moment and give me a conclusive answer instead of a poetically cryptic one. “You know McGregor High School’s principal on a first  name basis?”

“We are so much more than our vocation and employment.” Was Thoreau’s only answer. I looked into the rearview mirror to Boufanti who rolled his eyes and looked out the window.

“I know that, but aren’t you like…close to our age?” I asked. I couldn’t hold it in any longer

“It is hard to see one’s self as to look backwards without turning around.”

“Wait,” Tum-Tum said holding up his hands, “Who is Robbert?”

“Principal Whittier,” I said quickly to Tum-Tum then turned to Thoreau, “So, do you know where he lives?”

“Map,” Bouffanti, who had said little since getting back in the car, said softly.

 We finally got to Principal Whittier’s house and I pulled out my copy of the map. Scrawled by the same hand that drew the map were the words, No man without An can walk on land, but is forever doomed to stand. What the heck does that mean?  I looked to the backseat to Thoreau for any direction or insight. But, nothing came from him. Tum-Tum, on the other hand…

“What in the wide wide world of sports and spandex does that mean?” Tum-Tum unashamedly asked. “I mean we get all the way out here only to embarass ourselves infront of the principal? What if he calls me mom? Or what if this is just some plot to kill? Or worse-” You know when someone is listing stuff and then uses the phrase “or worse” only to add the most nefarious circumstance imaginable? Well, Tum-Tum did the listing and the phrase, then the puase but didn’t say anything.

“Or worse what?” Bouffanti asked after a beat.

“I don’t know,” Tum-Tum looked at him irritatedly, as if he had not said anything in the first place.

“I think this is just a stoner’s map, a prank,” Bouffanti said quietly. I felt my heart drop. I didn’t want this night to be over, especially not like this. Tum-Tum looked to me, “Epi, tell me that isn’t true.”

I wanted to assure him, and myself, that we were on a fun adventure to find something-anything. But, i couldn’t. I couldn’t even say anything to him. Thoreau silently got out of the Aspire. The small car lifted a little, relieved of Thoreau’s weight. Not that he had much, but you know, an Aspire is a tiny car. I didn’t say anything and soon Tum-Tum got out of the car too, and walked around the car to join Thoreau. This was the most depressing thing that had happened to me since finding out that Rock Hudson was gay.

“Well, atleast we got to have fun,” Bouffanti smiled to me and put a hand on mine.

“Yeah,” I tried to smile back.

“Look,” Bouffanti said, his eyes suddenly turning serious.

“Yeah?”

“This has been one of the weirdest, most strange night,” Bouffanti began and i braced myself for an inevitable snooty response. It is amazing what people will endure from someone else when they are hot. “But, it has been the most fun I’ve had…ever.”

I felt my eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Uh…me too,” I smiled. I realized that i meant it.

“And part of that was be-” But, his sentence was blocked out by a Tum-Tum scream. I jerked my head towards Principal Whittier’s lawn and saw that his front porch light had come on and a man with a shotgun was taking aim at us. In that instant, I didn’t do the brave thing-nope, not by a long shot. I ducked under the steering column of the car and covered my head with my hands. Bouffanti, on the other hand, did the ultra-selfless courageous thing and covered me with himself. Together, we braced ourselves for the impact of our doom. This is it, I know it, we are going to die. There is no other hand, I am prepared to mee the creator and-nothing. Absolutely nothing happened. I looked up.

“Robbert?” I heard Thoreau asked.

“Ra-”Whittier began but was cut off by Thoreau, “It is you. How are you Robbert?”

“Fine, but what are you doing here with three children?”

“Principal Whittier!” Tum-Tum yelled and charged into him to give him a hug. Got to hand it to Tum-Tum, nothing but affection.

By this time both Bouffanti and I got out of the Aspire and walked up to join Thoreau. “Robbert?” I heard a female voice call. I looked down at my watch and realized it was nearing on ten o’clock. A red-haired woman emerged in a long t-shirt with a dog’s mug printed on it.

“Oh,” she said congenially. “Well, why don’t you  guys come in?”

“I’m sorry Godrun, but we are looking for something.” Thoreau answered.

“Epiphany Slater? Is that you?” Whittier asked straining to see in the darkness.

“Yes, sir,” I answered.

“You just graduated didn’t you? What college will you be attending?”

“I don’t know. Probably State.” I answered awkwardly. Leave it to an adult to ask a question like that when a car full of teenagers appear on your lawn at ten o’clock at night. I glanced at Bouffanti who was looking at me, it appeared that he was trying to hide his face  from Whittier. Probably trying to avoid the same questions.

“And Petri Petrovich? I didn’t know you two knew each other.” Whittier said warmly, insinuating something. I blushed but Bouffanti the Brave once again emerged.

“We just met, sir. We are trying to solve a riddle.”

“And you thought coming to me for help at ten o’clock at  night was the answer?” Whittier asked.

“Not really, Robbert.” Thoreau interjected, “We are looking for something so we can move on.”

“Like a scavenger hunt?” The red-haired woman asked enthusiastically. She had, in the past five minutes, gained an affectionate tumor named Tum-Tum. She had wrapped her arms over him in a motherly embrace. “O what a time! To be a kid again!” she added.

“Godrun,” Whittier said sternly, then addressed us, “Well, you might as well leave. Come back tomorrow and we’ll help.”

“No, Robb. I think we should help them out now. What is the riddle?”

Tum-Tum unfolded himself from her arms and excitedly answered, “No man without An can walk on land, but is forever doomed to stand.”

I looked to Whittier and saw his face tighten. But, he didn’t answer. “Why don’t you guys come inside?” he said instead.

For some reason, I thought that going into the house of your high school principal was just too weird. “Why don’t we stay on the porch?” I suggested. Whittier perked up a little.

Godrun, Whittier’s wife I gathered, hurmmphed but finally acqueisced. “Can i atleast offer you some hot chocolate?”

“Yeah!” Tum-Tum cheered.

Godrun disappeared into the house and I pulled out the map. Whittier’s face tightened again and I pondered putting it away and then pulling it out again to see his face contract-then-relax, contract-then-relax, but that’s just mean.

Godrun came out of the house with three mugs and gave one to me and Bouffanti. Bouffanti blew on his and took a sip, he looked like a TV commercial. “I’ll be right back with another one for you, Ra-”

“I brought my own mug,” Thoreau said quickly and pulled out his 90s-Power Ranger mug and gave it to her, Whittier’s face paled but he remained silent. Once, we all were settled and Thoreau had his hot chocolate Godrun asked, “Okay, so what is the riddle again?”

“No man without An can stand on land, but is forever doomed to stand.” Bouffanti said from beside me. We both were sitting on the swinging bench while Tum-Tum shared a bench with Godrun, I mean Mrs. Whittier. Thoreau was in a rocking chair across from us  and Whittier leaned against he doorjamb. I tried to imagine what we looked like from the street. Maybe a family finishing up after a dinner party, or maybe a few kids who were in trouble being scolded, or…i couldn’t come up with many more scenarios.

“I had a friend named Anne once,” Godrun offered.

“It doesn’t look like a name. It’s spelt An. But, it could be i guess,” Bouffanti chimed in.

“So, if a dude doesn’t have an An then he can’t walk?” Tum-Tum asked.

Thoreau and Bouffanti snickered and I looked at them about to ask when Thoreau leaned forward and said, “Just think about it for a minute, Epi.”

Realization dawned on me and i rolled my eyes. Boys! “So, you guys think An is a euphimism for…?”

Whittier chuckled but continued to say nothing. The conversation continued and i started to get tired.

I looked around the porch and saw a gnome at one one corner of the porch. Ugh! I hate gnomes, they are creepy. When i was like eight i used to have nightmares that gnomes would come after me in my sleep and tie me to my bed and then murder me. It was horrible! And this one was especially ugle with a purple had, red nose, and blue shirt! I shivered and Bouffanti scooted a little closer to me. “Cold?” he whispered. I nodded, i didn’t want to admit that i was afraid of Gnomes.

“We think that this may be the end of the map. Like some group of kids wrote this map with gobbledy-gook  just to be funny. Really, we shouldn’t have even bothered with it.” I said shrugging while still eyeing that gnome, I just know that once i take my eyes off of it it will come after me.

“Wait,” I said grabbing my map and looking for a pen, “Does anyone have a pen?”

“Oh, i do!” Tum-Tum said raising his hand, like he was the first to get the right answer in class. He pulled out his dog change purse thing and from that drew a tiny pen.

“Oh, how darling,” Godrun said looking at the dog-bag thing.

I took the pen and wrote while talking,” If we spell out the Riddle and make Man and An nouns then follow the directions…” I continued writing only to see that if we take out An from Man then we get M. That doesn’t make sense.

“That doesn’t make sense though,” Tum-Tum said dejectedly.

“But, if we add No then we get No M.” Bouffanti said. That still didn’t make sense. NoM?

“Say it out loud” Thoreau said, suddenly invigorized, “Nom. Nom as in Vietnam or No-mmm. Gnome! Gnome!”

I looked back to my nemisis.

Godrun, “You kids can take that thing. I hate  it. I’ve tried to get rid of it but, Robb insists on keeping it.”

“You can have it,” Whittier said with a husky voice. He looked like he was struggling with something but, waved  the Gnome to us.

“No, you can have it Principal Whittier,” I said. I am not taking that thing with me anywhere!

“Epi!” TUm-Tum pleaded,” We figured it out, we can’t just give up now.”

“Yeah, we can Tum-Tum. I draw the line at creepy myth creatures that kill you in your sleep.”

Everyone on the porch just stared at me, and Bouffanti-trying to contain himself from laughter-asked, “Are you afraid of Gnomes?”

“Yeah, so? You wanna make something out of it?” I asked fiercely. I’ll fight anyone about Gnomes. They are of Satan!

“No, it’s okay. let’s just look at the Gnome,” Thoreau suggested diplomatically.

We looked the Gnome over, and by “we” i mean we in the larger context of a team or organization. Like at work, “we’ll need to push those Curious George Novelty Poncho’s” when really it means that one part of the team does it. So, with the Gnome I’m just not part of that particular peice of the organization.

“Nothing,” Bouffanti said, disappointed.

“Yep, I got nothing either,” Thoreau said quietly.

Impatient I exhaled and got up from the swing bench and walked over to the Gnome. After looking it over I picked it up and turned it upside down to look at the base to see a series of numbers. I took Tum-Tum’s mini-pen and wrote them down.

“It looks like a phone number.” I said. Bouffanti pulled out his iPhone (leave it to Bouffanti to have an iPhone) and dialed the number and put it on speaker. We all huddled around it.

“Tiki Toppie Pizza Shoppie,” A perky female voice picked up. When no one answered she asked, “Hello? Hello? Anyone there? Is this Hamster and Log again? Quit prank calling us we don’t make Grill on Grill Pizza’s or Sausage in Olive Surprise Pizza or any other disgusting thing you come up with!” She started to really yell so we just hung up.

“Okay, to Tiki Toppie Pizza Shoppie we go!” I said cheerfully. I was so happy that our night wasn’t over and there was still more to this map. Maybe there really is something to this!

“We wouldn’t have gotten the asnwer without you, Epi,” Tum-Tum said. Note to self: remember to put some M&M’s in Tum-Tum’s locker.

“Yeah, without the brains of the operation,” I teased.

“Honey, we usually are,” Godrun said giving me a sisterly wink. “Okay, kids, have fun!”

“And you two,” Whittier, Robb, said pulling Bouffanti and I aside, “Remember, it never matters what side you find yourself on, it matters what side you choose to be on.”

“Okay,” I said respectfully. And Bouffanti gave a contemplative nod.

Once, away from hearing distance Bouffanti asked, “what the hell does that mean?”

At the mega we constantly get calls asking to locate the obscure green covered book with a title that contains the words “the” and “it” written by a writter who is either Russian, Asian, Amerian, or was a trapped on a desert island fo 5 years. Therefore, mega employees like Thoreau, Tum-Tum, and I should be able to use our logic skills easily and efficiently.  So, when we passed a 5 cent copy machine as we were walking to the concession Thoreau suggested that we make a photocopy of the map because it was starting to look really banged up. After the copy was made (compliments of Thoreau finding change off of the floor) each of us was handed our 0wn copy of the map.

“Now, I’m keeping the original map” Thoreau says looking at Bouffanti and I with a look that can only be described as a mother lecturing her 3 year old twin daughters as they fight over the one Steve Doll in the land of Barbie.

“Why should you be able to keep the map!” Bouffant whines as I fold my arms and glare.

“You two each get a copy to follow, but Tum-Tum and I are sick of your incessant bickering over this crumpled up piece of paper. If you aren’t  going to use the air conditioning in your aspire you should AT LEAST quit complaining and arguing the entire time”

“This is supposed to be our little adventure too” Tum-Tum interjected.

“This isn’t your adventure” I yelled out frustrated “I didn’t invite you…I didn’t want or need any of you guys to come, but you came anyway”

I was like a wrecking ball on a pendulum. The words kept flowing out of my mouth, and I just could not stop the going. I really didn’t have a problem with Thoreau or Tum-Tum coming. They kept the car ride with Bouffanti, a relative stranger, fun and normal, but it was just the assumption that I wanted them with me that made me mad.

“You think I want the Mega Bookstore to start leaking onto my normal average life? You think I enjoy looking ridiculous when I go to work? When its time for me to go home I don’t want to think about Mega, and I don’t want any reminders of how I’m wasting away my entire summer and life being there”

“This one’s for the Mega crew compliments of Thoreau” the D. J yells switching the tracks from some trendy Jonas Brothers highschool musical type song to what sounds like the beginning of Under Pressure by Queen, but is actually Ice Ice Baby by Vanilla ice.

There was a long and akward silence, as I knew what I had said packed a lot of sting and hurt to it. Thoreau just looked around at the floor while Bouffanti gave me a shocked look. I was waiting for him to say something that would make me madder, but he didn’t.

“Epi…you didn’t mean that” Bouffant said quietly “I feel like you didn’t mean that”

“No…I didn’t”

I could feel my face growing hot and tears starting to pour down my face with me not wanting to give myself away by wiping them. Why was I so mean to Tum-Tum and Thoreau? They were my friends…the only two friends I had, and for some unexplainable reason I took my frustration out on them.
“Epi” I heard Bouffanti whisper to me as he pulled me into a hug and held me close to him. I could smell a faint wood smell mixed in with a nice cologne. His arm rubbing my back as I cried onto his nice non-megabookstore uniform shirt. “They know you didn’t mean it …right guys?”

No answer came for a second. I was sure my two friends were staring down dejectedly at the floor. I was sure Tum-Tum’s face was screwed up as he tried to remember the number of a cab. I knew that Thoreau was leaning with his weight shifted to one leg as he fluffed up his hair trying to pretend like what I said couldn’t hurt him even though he did. I knew my friends so well I didn’t have to look away from Bouffanti’s nice warm hold to understand why they paused.

“Umm…we know you didn’t mean it Eli”  Tum Tum said “Thoreau and I don’t like working at the mega so much either…but its a job….a good job…and we all have to do what we have to do”

I nodded into Bouffantis wet shirt

“I know you didn’t invite us, but this is the greatest day and adventure Thoreau and I have had outside of mega bookstore in a while…Its like instead of reading I’m finally living my life. I’m sorry we took over”

“Yeah me too…I’m sorry” Thoreau says

I let go of Bouffanti and turned to Thoreau and Tum-Tum. “You guys get a say from now on…its your mission too. I’m sorry I blew up at you guys…Thanks for understanding”

I wanted a group hug. The way friends hug at the end of movies. I didn’t want to tell my friends to hug me I just wanted them to know it was time. Neither of them hugged me, so I jumped at the Thoreau and Tum-Tum forgetting I was wearing skates, and they were too. Mid-jump I realized trying to force a group hug in skates was a bad idea.

Tum-Tum, Thoreau and I rolled and landed on the floor in a mega heap.

We entered into the fluorescently bright CVS, and began our mission for tape. Tape happens to be a quick two minute errand, but that is only if you haven’t entered into CVS with Tum-Tum, Thoreau, and Bouffanti. As luck would have it I was staring at CVS’s extensive mug collection and faintly hearing Tum-Tum’s comment on the “steal” of flip-flops in the next aisle over when Bouffanti came over and nudged me. I looked over at him and he looked deep into my eyes, I felt my knees go weak and he looked at my lips then open his and then-“Scotch or generic?” Danggit! How does he make those two words sexy? I slouched to one side and felt the dampness on my butt. O yeah, he really couldn’t be interested in me-especially not in the Mega-ugly uniform. But, then why would he be going on this random map quest-thing with three underpaid slackers? Bored. That is the only real reason I could come up with. Yeah, trendy Bouffant-wearers only slum when they’re bored. I’ve seen Dirty Dancing. Well, I guess in this situation I would be Patrick-I mean, Johnny Castle-and he would be Baby. Whatever, I’m over thinking it-that and Bouffanti was still waiting for me to answer his question.
“I think Scotch would be the best. We don’t want another tear.” I said smiling.
“Yeah, that’s good thinking,” He said and smiled. I called to Tum-Tum, who had proceeded to try on a pair of ladies sandals with sequins, and then called over to Thoreau who walked over with Tum-Tum to the mug-section.
We began to walk toward the counter when Thoreau stopped his mouth gaping at the mugs as we. He didn’t say anything but stopped with an unexplainable look gazing at each mug.
“Epi…do you know what’s up with Thoreau?” Tum-Tum said whispering to me so he didn’t have to disrupt Thoreau from his reverie.

Thoreau reached a hand up and stroked a power-rangers-90-esque pink mug. I’m pretty sure I saw a tear fall from his eye, and then he slowly turned around and stared at me. The only available word for this deep moment with the bright mug is: bizarre. And of course, if I weren’t the narrator this probably wouldn’t be mentioned. But, for the first time in my life I kind of felt sad for Thoreau, and I can’t explain why. It was as if he lost something.
“Have you ever seen breakfast at Tiffany’s” Thoreau says to me.
“Yeah” Bouffanti says still staring oddly at Thoreau.
“You know when they steal stuff from that store”
Tum-Tum, Bouffanti, and I stare at Thoreau and nod slowly…very slowly.
“We should Breakfast at Tiffany’s the tape”
There were a lot of things that rolled through my head. All those things I learned in elementary school about peer-pressure, and drug abuse. The millions of reasons that stealing was wrong. I could feel a nervous feeling in my stomach as I was about to come up with some clever way of saying no, but then…
“Why not?” Bouffanti said matching a mischievous gaze from Thoreau. There was something that was going on between the two of them in that gaze. The gaze somehow shifted to Tum-Tum and he got a devilish little smile on his face.
“That’s Brilliant” Tum-Tum said as if the three of them were somehow reading each other’s minds. They had some kind of connection I couldn’t quite understand. They all turned the gaze to me and looked really funny the three of them standing there quite devilish. Thoreau and Tum-Tum still wearing the ridiculous mega uniform I might add.
“We aren’t doing this.” I said “That’s just ridiculous”
“Its ok…guys” Bouffanti said sticking up for me as Tum-Tum and Thoreau opened there mouths to object “You know how girls can be”
All of them snickered at the same time sharing that odd boyish connection. I wanted to know how girl’s could be. What did they mean by that? Girl’s can take tape just as good as guys can take tape. Would Bouffanti ever learn that sexist comments were ignorant.
And…That is how we ended up walking out of CVS, and then running to my car with stolen two-dollar invisible tape from CVS.
You know in the movies when the scene suddenly changes, and you don’t really know why?
……
Well we were in the car laughing breathlessly, a bunch of “can’t believe we just did that” ‘s and “O my gosh!”’s. When I laughed, “Yeah, that totally saved us the awkward i-got-it-you-got-it-but-should-I-should-offer? Moment at the register.”
This is when Bouffanti lost us, “We all know that I would’ve paid. Really, guys.”
“Why, is that, Bouffanti?” Tum-Tum asked. I felt hurt for Tum-Tum. I knew it was only a matter of time before Bouffanti would pull something like that, but Tum-Tum…
“You know, Tum-Tum…”But, when neither Thoreau nor I came to help he looked around at us.
“What are you saying?” I asked. Please, don’t mean what I think you mean! We just had a great moment at CVS!
“I would have insisted” He said shaking his head, “Maybe if we had gotten the generic-“ Immediately he froze. It took me a minute to understand what he implied, but I eventually got there.
“What does that mean?” I asked slowly.
“Well, I meant…that you work at the Megabookstore, and so you must not-“
“What?” it came out kind of like a screech. “You think because I work at a Megabookstore I’m poor? Or, if I am poor that I have too much pride to let you pay for some dinky roll of tape?!”
“No, I just wanted to do it.”
“Because, you think that I can’t afford it.” I stated.
“No, I just thought that because it was me you would offer-“
“Because, I have too much pride and stupidity to realized that it would be better for me to let you help the mere peasant.” Tum-Tum and Thoreau were watching us like spectators at a tennis match.
“I feel like I am watching my parents.” Tum-Tum said.
I exhaled, this was ridiculous. So, what if that is what he thought of me, right? I mean, he’s just some Bouffant who walked into a bookstore while I was on-duty. Besides, if he wants to pay then, why shouldn’t I let him?
“Epiphany, that is not what was trying to say.”
“Whatever,” I said calmly. But, he said it. “Let’s just figure out the map.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………
According to the newly adhered map we were supposed to be on 35 travelling south bound. I looked into my rearview mirror, and noticed something odd about one of my passengers.
“Tum-Tum” I began “Why is your jacket so oddly shaped”
“I’m pregnant?” He said questioningly with an odd smirk on his face.
“Pregnant with what?” Bouffanti said arching an eyebrow slowly.
I’m sure the banter would have gone on and on, but Thoreau…The brilliant man that Thoreau is just reached over and unzipped Tum-Tum’s jacket. A few five-finger-discounted items fell onto my floor board.
Now…when I say a few…I mean a lot.
And a here’s a summary of Tum-Tum’s Theviery:
Hot-Dog Shaped Whistle
Tum-Tum’s response: “Oh I wish were an Oscar Mayer Weiner”…
Bubble gum Tape
Tum-Tum’s response “it just keeps going and going and going…you never know when you’ll need this stuff”
A dog shaped change purse
Tum-Tum’s response “Izzzoooo cute”

Sequins Sandals
Tum-Tum’s response ‘for personal reasons”

“So you’ve explained everything but that pink thing.” Bouffanti says trying to make up for the earlier conversation. “It seems interesting”
Tum-Tum uncharacteristically shy said “Oh that’s the mug Thoreau was staring at..I accidentally broke it when I was running…sorry. It was for you Thoreau, and you don’t have to take it now that it is broken.”
We all knew what was coming. Everyone in the car was waiting for it. That philosophical out of context quote from Thoreau. Like something you never had to question like why the toilet handle is always cold.
Something along the lines of:
“A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone.”
“Be true to your work, your word, and your friend. ”
Or
“Do not be too moral. You may cheat yourself out of much life. Aim above morality. Be not simply good; be good for something.”
Wait a minute…why do I know all of these Thoreau quotes? Could it be that Mega bookstore is actually starting to rub off on my brain?
Anyway, Thoreau surprised us all when he simply answered “Thank you..Tum-Tum”

The moment was tender and sweet. I think that everyone else agreed with me, because the car was completely silent…Well, not technically. I mean you could still hear that “whoosh” when we passed guys on the freeway. But, other than that we all were silent. I stole a glance at Bouffanti and found him concentrating, his eyebrows were cinched together and he was leaning on his fist. That and his jaw seemed to twitch every couple of seconds. Yeah…I know, i should be watching the road. Yeah…I know, i’ve got it bad for snooty stranger. And…Yeah…I owe him another apology for being too sensitive. Although it does hurt that he thinks of me and my friends-i mean co-workers-as a group of poor greasers, his intent was to be nice to us. right? I don’t know. His comments still sting, even if his intention was pure.

But, my ruminations were interupted by a, “Gooooouuuuyyyys?”

“What, Tum-Tum?” We all asked in unison

“I’ve gotta…you know…”

“Can’t you hold it?” Bouffanti asked.

“No! All this Breakfast at Tiffany’s really shook me up. Please, Epi, stop.”

I looked around the freeway and the only thing close to the next exit was a roller rink. “Tum-Tum, the only thing around is a roller rink. I think we should stay on until we can find a McDonalds or something.” But, the noises and moans combined with Thoreau’s silent look of fear as i glanced in the rearview mirror made the decision for me. We would stop.

As the four of us entered the roller rink i thought we had been transported into the seventies. I mean there were disco balls everywhere, along with carpeted walls with bowling pin designs on them. The entire place smelt like sweat and stale popcorn.

“Okay, Tum-Tum, hurry up so that we can continue.” I know. I sound like a mom on a roadtrip. It kinda irritated me: since when had i become Wendy from “Peter Pan”? All well, i am sure there would come a time when one of the guys would come to take care of me.

“I’ll go with him” Thorea said and followed after Tum-Tum. I exhaled and found a bench near the check-out counter and sat down. Bouffanti and I hadn’t directly spoken to each other since the poor-rich converstation-correction: spat. I felt bad for being so sensitive and snapping at him. But, was i right in doing that? Or was i being too sensitive? Man, i hate thinking this hard. I rubbed my eyes.

“You tired already, Epi?” Bouffanti asked gently

“Yeah, kind of.” I didn’t want to tell him i was thinking too hard about him and my non-existent relationship. Better to change the subject, “How long do we stay on the 35?”

Bouffanti pulled out the map, but just as he unrolled it a group of junior highers on skates slid past, stole the map, and yelled, “Suckers!” In an instant our map had been stolen. I couldn’t believe it. why would someone do that? I looked into Bouffanti’s eyes and saw my own shock there. What the -?

“Guys, why the shocked faces?” Tum-Tum asked as he and Thoreau returned from the bathroom.

“The map was stolen” Bouffanti said slowly.

Without a word Thoreau darted to the check-out counter and grabbed a pair of rollerblades and headed for the skating floor. He turned, “What are you guys waiting for?”

……………………..

Okay, so if you ever want to get to know someone really well, I say take ‘em to a roller rink. I learned things about Tum-Tum, Thoreau, Bouffanti, and even myself that i hadn’t known before. Like that fact that Thoreau cannot skate to save his life while Tum-Tum is as graceful as as swan. I mean, who would have thought it? The kid can’t work a vending machine but looks like Christie Yamagoochi (or however you spell her name) on hardwood. I learned that twelve years olds are satan incarnate and decided that whenever i have kids when they turn twelve i am gonig to sell them to the gypsies.

First, we all get skates and hesitate before getting on the floor. Thoreau goes down about .5 seconds later taking Bouffanti and I with him, but Tum-Tum is already after Thing 1 that has the map. I watch as he rollerderbies it to Thing 1 and reaches for the map, only to have Thing 2 of the teenie-boppers snatch it away. Bouffanti gets up and helps Thoreau and I get up. I stand up and skate to a side thinking that Thing 2 will eventually have to come around, but as he skates near he tosses it to some streaked blond Thing 3! I skate after her but she passes it to Thing 4. How many are in league? Anyway, I keep with Thing 3 in the off chance that thing 3 will get the map again. I turn to see Thoreau crouched in a corner near the DJ’s booth and Bouffanti after Thing 1. I look for Tum-Tum and find him directly underneath the disco ball doing a move for some other Things that i thought only figure skaters could do. They gush and oo and ahh at him. I yell, “Tum-Tum! Get the map!” He turns to me and nods in that “o yeah” kind of way. I turn back to Thing 3 and notice that while i was yelling at Tum-Tum someone had slipped her the map, so i speed up but trip over a shoe lace. A shoe lace! I really should have grabbed some skates with those clippy things. Anyway, i face plant it into the ground and feel like a plane that has nose-dive into a tarmac. I feel myself slid over onto my right hip and forward about a yard. But, before i can be embarassed i feel hands pick me up and see a Bouffanti with this look on his face. At first, i thought “How romantic. He is helping me up and lah lah sunflowers and daisies and Fabio is straight.” But, then i realize that the look on his face is “You look ridiculous and I am trying really hard not to laugh at you.” Then, his face turned to shock. I realize i am laughing at myself, I am literally busting up at myself. I must have lookesd so funny skating after some punk while one of those Jonas Brothers whines over the speakers and then totally beefing it. Note: to beef is to fall, face plant, trip or otherwise make an idiot of yourself. Anyway, i totally beefed it and it was hilarious! Bouffanti cracks up next to me and, for a moment, the map is forgotten and the world is as Shakespeare descibes it in A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream

“Look, how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold;
There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st
But in his motion like an angel sings …
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.”

 

Yeah,…I’m a complete nerd. But, the moment is broken when i hear a traditional Tum-Tum scream. I look to see him with the map skating towards us, without thinking I grab Bouffanti’s hand and yell, “Grab Tum-Tum!” He  does and we skate as fast as we can pulling Tum-Tum. We near the curve of the track and i look back and Bouffanti and can tell he understands my plan. I look forward and can see the opening  that leads off the track and to the concession stand. I  concentrate and yell, “NOW!” Bouffanti and I sling-shot Tum-Tum as hard as we can off the track. Okay, so i didn’t plan it the plan all that well. Because, I realize as Tum-Tum screams that he is headed straight for the snack bar too fast and no hope of stopping. Thing 1, 2,3, and 4 stop and watch in teenage awe as Tum-Tum is catapulted forward. I  feel my stomach drop.

 

What happens next is not an exaggeration. I promise. In the midst of his girlish screams i see him pull out his bubble gum tape and check rapidly before he smashes into the popcorn vat. Bouffanti and I rush over to the snack bar to find Thoreau already over there checking on Tum-Tum.

“Tum-Tum, are you alright?” Bouffanti asks

Tum-Tum blows a bubble, “I’m m’kay.” then silence.

Thoreau exhales and i lean over to check him, i don’t really know what i am checking but somehow it makes me feel better. Tum-Tum makes a noise and we all look up at him, “That was AWESOME!” and he starts laughing. “So, I have been skating since i was three for the olympics and thought i knew all there was to in-line skating. But, that was the most awesome thing ever! I have always wondered what people with friends do at roller rinks, because i wouldn’t know, because i would be practicing and they always seemed to be having fun even though they were just basically skooting around…”Yeah, Tum-Tum was back to normal. He didn’t even stop talking to breathe. I exhaled in relief, I felt horrible for coming up with the whole slingshot plan that was really only half-baked.

“Guys, get up and skate. I have the map

Okay, so my curiousity was peaked and that is my only excuse for what happened next. I allowed Bouffanti into my car, now usually i don’t just let gorgeously awkward boys into my car-what am i saying? I don’t know any gorgeously awkard boys let alone have them in my car! So apparently i do allow gorgeously awkward boys into my car.

Anyway, he was in the passenger seat and unrolled the brown paper infront of me. It appeared to be some kind of map, but there were water smudges from Bouffanti’s heroic saving of my couch cover brown butt. Bouffanti held it out for me and squinted closer to get a better look. What is this map supposed to lead to? Why would the map be in some Karen Kingsbury book? Why did I care? I’ll tell you why i cared, because Bouffanti cared. I blushed and pushed my face closer to the map so he wouldn’t notice.

“Jeez, do you need glasses or something?” He asked as my my nose could pick up the scent of paper and something familiar…i couldn’t really place what the other smell was.

I blushed even deeper and said, “I am just trying to get a better look.” Right when i get all mushy and stuff he opens his mouth and ruins it!

“Okay, Fani, i didn’t mean to offend you. Some people really have serious vision impairments and …”

“And what?” I asked. Okay, so i was being too sensitive but there was no way i was going to let him off so easily after embarassing me.

“Forget it.” He said and exhaled.

“Fine.” I said and pulled the paper towards myself, but Bouffanti just pulled back. I jerked back, and then he jerked. Yeah, we are real mature. But, i jerked back one good one and was greated by the horrible sound of rejected brown paper bag paper ripping.

“Look what you did!” He said accusingly.

“What you did!” I said back, “If you had just let me have it, it wouldn’t have ripped.”

“Why couldn’t you just look over at it?”

“Why couldn’t you? If you remember correctly I was the one who found this first.” I said and then did the o-so-mature thing and stuck out my tongue at him.

“Charming” he said sarcastically. Then we both stared each other down, letting the moment of tension roll off of us like the raindrops on the windsheild of my Aspire.

Suddenly, “EPI!” Tum-Tum’s chubby face smushed up against my window and i jumped. Bouffanti laughed and i unrolled the window, “What Tum-Tum?”

“Where you goin’?” He asked coyly pawing the asphalt with his foot.

“Your mom forget to pick you up again?” I asked, tiredly.

“Yeahh…” He said quietly and pathetically. He reminded my of my little sister when she is caught trying on my bra’s-she six.

“Hop in” I said and rolled up my window and Tum-Tum jumped and clapped his hands in delight. Why a 16 year old claps his hands in delight i will never know and therefore, never explain.

“Who’s this?” He asked as he slid into the passenger seat on top of Bouffanit, and Bouffanti grunted and muttered, “Dude!”

“Bouffanti” I said mildly amused.

“Dude, someone is already sitting here.” Bouffanti said as he tried to shove Tum-Tum out of the car.

“Yeah, me! I’ve known Epi for longer and drive with her more so that is shotty-right.”

“What is shotty-right?” Bouffanti asked confused and looked to me. I shrugged, although i knew exactly what Tum-Tum was talking about.

The MegaBookstore Handbook with bathroom graffiti add-in:

Shotty-Rights AKA Shot Gun Rights

1. Get there first

2. “Call it”

3. De-throne, as it were, the current occupant of Shotty

4. All Shotty-Right’s previously to are voided in the event that there is a guest or otherwise new acquantaince.

 

“Tum-Tum!” Bouffanti grunted under his weight.  I watched for about 5 more minutes then got irritated.

“Tum-Tum, shotty-rights void you tonight.”

“No, no, i have shotty-right!” he said is chubby face turning pink from the effort, “If i de-throne him the i have shotty-right!”

“No, all shotty-right’s are voided in the event of a guest, Tum-Tum.” I say gently. I can tell it would hurt him if i said it too harshly.

I watched as Tum-Tum slumped on top of Bouffanti and then slid off his lap. He trudged to the back seat and dejectedly slid into the middle seat. I wondered how long it would take for him to cheer up, Tum-Tum usually only stayed sad for about 3 minutes before he distracted.

“What’s that?” He asked. Take that back, it only takes 3 seconds.

“Nothing.” “A Map.” Boufanti and i say at the same time. I look over at Bouffanti, who exhales and then answers, “A Map.”

“For what?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“Can i see it?”

Bouffanti handed Tum-Tum his half, “Where is the other half of it?”

“Fani, ripped it.” Bouffanti pointed at me. I opened my  mouth to retaliate but

“Her name is Epi, not Fani. Want us to call you something random like….”He struggled for a second then said, “Petri?”

Petri’s face froze, “What did you just call me?”

“Yeah, you don’t like it do you?”

“How did you know my name?”

“What? I just thought of that movie-Land Before Time.” Then i laughed. This was ridiculous.

“So, are you guys going to follow it tonight? Can I come? Since, my mom forgot me i bet she won’t mind! C’mon!” A million questions spilled into his mouth the way millions of M&M’s spill into it.

“Okay, Tum-Tum, that’s enough. Sure you can come.” I say. Note: I didn’t really want Tum-Tum to come, but i thought since i didn’t know Bouffanti it might not be safe. There’s no point in going all Lifetime when you can just as easily avoid it. Besides, i don’t look good in peach off-shoulder sweaters.

I started the car’s ignition with a turn of my key, ready to begin the journey, and I see a mass of wet hair bounding towards my car in a horrifying pea-green shirt. It’s Thoreau, who usually looks like Jared Leto if he was a hamster, but right now he reminds me of Jared Leto if he was a wet ferret. The wet ferret was headed for my car, and I had to do something before Megabookstore Completely ruined not only my social life, but also my love-life, which up until now was nonexistent. But, Thoreau plastered himself to my hood and screeched…that’s right, he screeched.

Finally, Tum-Tum rolled down his window and because I can’t afford power windows I was powerless to stop him. “Yo, Thoreau, dawg, wazzup?” I hate it when Tum-Tum watches Hustle and Flow.

“ay, to life itself than this incessant business.” Was all Thoreau said. I looked over at Bouffanti and then we both looked to Tum-Tum, who shrugged. Then I yelled, “Get in.” And, to my surpise, he did.

And this is how it all really began: two idiots jump into my car like lost pound puppies, a dude with an imitation Robert Pattinson hair-do and Ricky Martin mole.

I guess the novelty of our journey was lost on me, but completely found by Tum-Tum in spades. “Here we go!” he began singing to a mixture of Barney and Pokemon theme songs. “We want to be the very  best, we will travel across the 35, and find the treasure is our CAUSE!”

“SHUT UP!” We all yelled in unison. Gotta give it to Tum-Tum, he unites people.

“Silence is the universal refuge,” Thoreau muttered to himself.

“Okay, enough of this” Bouffanti said annoyed. “How are we going to figure out the map since it is now in two pieces? I think you should give me your half so that you can drive.”

“I don’t think so. It’s because of you that the map got ripped in the first place. You should give me your half!” Okay, so once again Mrs. Mature comes out to play.

“No! How will you drive? Do you have a 3^rd and 4^th arm I don’t know about?” Then, he eyed my chest. Arrgh! What a pig!

“There’s this matriarchal culture that quarters there men from time to time. You know…rip them into shreds. I can see why they do that.” I retorted back. Tum-Tum snickered in the backseat, and I could see the hint of a smile play on Thoreau’s face.

“Well, for thousands of years women weren’t allowed to even speak in a man’s presence.”

“You sexist pig,” I said, rather calmly considering that I wanted to punt him all the way to Calcutta.

“Hey, guys!” Tum-Tum interjected. “There is this new fangled thing called tape.” I felt completely stupid and immature, and what was worse is that I deserved it.

“A strip of plastic with some form of adhesive on one side, like a glue, and it binds things together sometimes. I think it was invented in the 1800’s but, I’m not sure,” Tum-Tum continued, and suddenly I knew that I wasn’t the only fool in the car.

“We get it, Tummy,”  Bouffanti said annoyed but mildly amused.

“Don’t be mad at Tummy-I mean, Tum-Tum, he is my  friend.” I said, it irritated me that he would treat Tum-Tum that way.

“Do you really care about what he is talking about?”

Tum-Tum folded his arms across his chest with a self-satisfied smile, ”That’s right. I can talk about the origins of tape all I want to.”

So, for the next 5 minutes we listened to, perhaps, the dumbest lecture on the origins of tape because of my spite. Tape before the fall, you know it’s a saying…I think.

“Any fool can make a rule, and any fool will mind it.” Thoreau muttered. I wish he would stop muttering.

“Okay, Epi, I’m sorry,” I looked over in surprise. Yes, it was Bouffanti who just apologized, “I won’t treat Tum-Tum like that.” I shifted uncomfortably and I could hear the Tum-Tum hadn’t let up one bit, “So, in the 1960’s low-grade adhesives came to play in the Veitnam war, and Charlie was really trying to figure out why American notices stayed up longer than Commie ones did…”

“Okay, Tum-Tum, that is enough,” I said gently. I shifted uncomfortably, I should really apologize to Bouffanti too.

“I’m sorry too…” I said. I didn’t want to, but when someone apologizes to you…you really have to check yourself.

“So we adhese the map!” Tum-Tum yells excitedly. “What do ya think, Thoreau!”

“It is never too late to give up your prejudices” Thoreau muttered, then added, “So, where are we going?”

Right! I forgot because of our argument. I exhaled and gave my piece to Bouffanti, and he put them together, “We need to get to a CVS.” He said urgently.

“Epi! Epi! Epi!” my annoying co-worker poked and hyperventilated or maybe he was just fat and out of breath. I don’t really know which. He had a pimple on his forehead that screamed enough to get him attention, but his scratchy voice added the extra umph of obnoxiousness. He just finished puberty, a week ago, so his voice should have been deeper.

“Calm down Tum-Tum”

Tum Tum’s real name is Bartholomew but since the Christmas Party his name has been Tum-Tum. Tum-Tum’s naming incident is too long of a story to explain, but it does involve whip-cream, apple sauce, Nora Roberts, and a vending machine.

“Epi! That guy is back! That guy that turns the books with that cheesy picture in Christian fiction…You have to do something!”

Let’s Pause, and reflect on the Mega Book Store Employee Handbook

The Mega Book Store Official Stance on Customer Profiling

Article 165. Section A.

(Paragraph 2)

“At Mega Bookstore it is our policy not to profile customers.”

The Unwritten Mega Bookstore Stance on Customer Profiling.

Employee Bathroom Tagging. Section 2. Subsection C. Stall 2

(Red Ink)

“Since 4/20 (national stoner’s day) idiots have been going to Christian fiction and turning Karen Kingsbury books around so you see her danged-happy face. We are obliged to stop this”

“Why me?” Since when am I responsible for the oddness of the Christian fiction section?

“It’s because I have to take care of romance” Tum-Tum’s scratchy voice says.

The social demographic of the Romance section consists of a) rejected writers b) lonely women c) water buffalos and d) a picture timeline of Kurt Cobain’s final hours. In summation, this is where we shove all of Mega Bookstore’s mega losers. I guess this means the manager shoved Tum-Tum into the loser section because he suspects Tum-Tum also ranks on the mega loser list.

As I walk to the Christian fiction Section I think about the illustrious customer’s of Mega Bookstore that are both rejected and loved.

Mega Book Store Mission Statement:

“It is our policy to provide close-to-wholesale prices on quality books”

Our Mega Mission’s consequences happen every Monday at 11:23 am when a middle aged woman with pale blonde hair walks inside of the store with the brand new lemon flavored vitamin water, a bag of M&Ms from Tum-Tum’s vending machine, nods in disapproval at a copy of Twilight, and finally settles into a strange violently orange vinyl chair in Christian Fiction. We call her sister.

Note: At 12:15 pm I check the disapproved copy of Twilight and observe movement of a dog-eared page. Sister is now at the part where Bella is not having sex with Edward—Again.

I turn a corner and see Karen Kingsbury’s smiley face and roll my eyes. I can see why the stoner’s like her—she smiles just as much as they do. I reach out and straighten the shelf while noticing a tall skinny dude with bouffant and a teal pea coat browsing the manga section.

It is with a heavy heart that I must note that Mega’s coolest customers are the manga readers. So I watch as Mr. Bouffant’s eyes trail my movements as I rearrange Karen Kingsbury’s books for the 5^th time. I’m sure Mr. Bouffant is the one who is flipping the books. I already don’t like him.

Anyway, I look to Karen Kingsbury’s I-had-too-many-epidurals-before-I-went-into-labor face. Her face is now tilted facing the romance section where Tum-Tum is strategically fighting the inside of a yellow Curious George novelty poncho. Crap!

“Poncho fail, Tum Tum” I mutter under my breath flipping over another Kingsbury book “Your bum-bum’s In the way”

I know it sounds like I don’t like Tum-Tum, but I do like him. I just see him too much.

“Excuse Me?” Mr. Bouffant asks offended. Now, how he crossed a 3 foot wide aisle in under two seconds I don’t know. But, I couldn’t decide if it was like Brad Pitt in “Interview with a Vampire” or the guy with chronic halitosis who always seems to be in the same elevator as you.

“I’m sorry, can I help you” I say. His eyes are a golden brown…okay, hazel. The tealness of his coat is throwing me off. I watched as his eyes traveled south to my chest.

Note: The Mega Bookstore policy on uniforms can be summed up in one word—abstinence. We are required to wear pea-green rejected bowling shirts and couch-cover brown corduroy pants. Then, to top it off Tum-Tum volunteered on name tag day (code for no one else could be paid to do it) and spelled my name Eli-fant which is equivocal to a misspelled version of elephant. My real name is Epiphany…

Pause. Take all the time to make all the puns. Laugh at me…Now lets move on.

Mr. Bouffant cocked an eyebrow and said “Eli is it? Or Fani? I believe you mentioned my bum-bum.”

I warred within myself between a mature customer service reaction and punching him.

Mega Bookstore Official Stance on Violence

Article 16. Section C.

(Paragraph 8)

“Violence can be used under the following circumstances: a) defense of self b)threat of death”

My employee hand book has small notes that continue with

“I’m sorry, sir” I say and exhale. I look over at Tum-Tum who has one arm shoved through a Curious George Poncho and head stuck in a random hole as a 3 year old stares at him crying. I hear muffled yells that sounds like him saying “Elephants”

Of 3 things I was absolutely certain:

First, Mr. Bouffant had a type of Ricky Martin/ Robert Pattinson sex appeal (that’s right drool)

Second, There was a part of Tum-Tum, and I’m not sure how weak that part may be; that needed my help.

Third, I unconditionally and irrevocably had to pee.

“I’m sorry…sir…I was referring to my co-worker…umm…we call him Tum-Tum”

“Why?”

“Nora Roberts”

Bouffanti moved to arch an eyebrow, and leaned against the Kingsbury section knocking over several clone happy faces.

“Umm…Umm…I’m sooo sorry”

“Don’t worry about this sir. I gots it”

“You gots it Fani? Do ya gots it?”

Note: It I had not found what I discovered in the next 8.3 and ½ seconds. Bouffanti would have been K.O.ed.

But, in Seussian terms, I did find what I found.

Before I mention what I found, I heard Bouffanti say absentmindedly “Nothing is sexier than a woman in corduroy”

I flushed and kept my head down to hide my reddening face, and glimsped it. Hey! I don’t know Bouffanti, but it seems a Bouffantian way to swipe the paper from my hands.

“What’s this?” he asked“I don’t know, you took it” I answered irritably.

When I was three I had received a hotwheel for my birthday from an uncle that still calls me Antigone. Anway, little Mattie Daniels took this hotwheel- a hotwheel I hated- but, as soon as he took it I needed it back. You see, it was mine. So, as I glared into Bouffanti’s Ricky Martinish hazel-gold eyes I needed whatever that paper was.

Tum-Tum’s little screamer broke into an angry gaze.

“Koo-ree-us! Jor-Jah!” echoed in the store.

“Dude” Thoreau said popping out from behind a bookshelf in the Christian Fiction section “You two just totally had a moment”

Have I mentioned Thoreau yet? Thoreau works the night shift, and let me tell you a little something about him and Mega Bookstore.

On Shakespeare’s birthday (it’s okay if you don’t know…This is why God invented Google), which is an epic occasion for any bookstore, The Megabookstore received a shipment of coffee cups with Thoreau one-liners. Now, the Mega Bookstore never ordered any of these cups as the only drinks we serve come from Tum-Tum’s vending machine (which has been permanently clogged by his whipped cream incident) The cups were supposed to go to our arch nemesis: Barnes N’ Nobles.

Enter Thoreau.

I don’t know what his real name is, no one else does either. But, I do know he constantly quotes those cups which is weird because I’ve never seen him with one.

Both Bouffanti and I turn to him and he philosophically says “Sometimes I forget that I am blind.”

Again both Bouffanti and I turn to look at each other and mouth the word “What?”

“Nevermind, I’m here to relieve you, Eliphant.”

I give up, Eliphant it is.

Chapter 2—I’d probably be blind

As I approached the employee locker room I could hear the pitter patter of rain on the Mega Bookstore roof. I liked the rain. I passed Tum-Tum, still confused in the Curious George poncho, and shook my head.

I could hear Thoreau yelling from across self-help “Use the same technique you did with the vending machine!”

“But, I don’t have any whipped cream!” Tum-Tum yelled back dejectedly.

I entered into the staff room and grabbed my stuff from out of my locker, and was glad to be done with my shift at the Mega Bookstore.

As I walked across the parking lot to my old and ghetto Ford Aspire, I could see Bouffanti at his nice Mercury Milan.

Note: What happened next happened in slow motion and I blame Bouffanti for it.

“So…Eliphant I was thinking…Erm…if you really wanted to see that thing…maybe we could follow the–”

Just then an arm shot out and pushed me down onto the pavement. I made an oh-so glamorous Wharg sound as the wind was knocked out of me, and I turned in just enough time to narrowly miss Bouffanti’s huge beak of a nose headed straight for my eye. I could also see the van that had skidded across the parking lot straight towards us.

Note: If I hadn’t chose to turn my head this story would be entitled Confessions of a Blind Girl.

“I just saved your life!” Bouffanti shouted, although I was only inches away from him.

Ok, from the earlier debate:

Bouffanti was definitely halitosis guy—but, hot halitosis guy.

“I can’t breathe with you on me.” I said as his body smashed mine to the sidewalk. I began to squirm and, in what I was coming to understand as the true Bouffantian way, he let me fall to the wet tar of the Mega bookstore parking lot.

As I lay there looking up at the parking lot lamps, two things hit me.

First, The Mega Bookstore is Mega Ghetto.

And Second, Bouffanti had, in fact, saved my life.

Have I mentioned Tum-Tum’s pants yet? There is a connection I promise. Now, most corduroy pants do not come with cargo pockets, but Tum-Tum’s pants do. (room for expansion…or keepin it clean) So sometimes on slow days, from his abstinence only corduroy cargo pant pockets Tum-Tum pulls out his 99 cent romance novels and reads a chapter or two to me. I pretend to hate it, but a girl can get carried away. I mention this to say that Bouffanti made me feel like a heroine from one of Tum-Tum’s cargo pant books—and, I liked it. So, when Bouffanti offered his hand to help me up it was imperative that I don’t let him help me up. You see, I can’t become all starry-eyed for every boufant and mullet that comes around.

So, instead I hrrummph’d and got up myself and looked down at a patch of my birth-control pants to see wetness on my bum. Great! Now, I look like I peed on myself. “That sucks, Fani>” Bouffanti said shaking his head.

“Well, thank God i don’t live and die by the Megabookstore uniform.” I say exhaling and trying very hard to ignore him.

“That’s good news, for a second i was worried that i would never see you without your uniform on.” He said and I arched an eyebrow at him.

“That’s not what i meant. I mean it just came out wrong.” I let him continue sputtering for a moment before i rolled my eyes-all hots no brains. “Well, thank you for…helping me, Bouffanti. Have a good day”

“What’d you just call me?” He asked as if i had offended him.

“Bouffanti, you know because of your hair?” I said. Yeah, that Bouffanti comment just sort of slipped out. I didn’t really mean to say it outloud.

“Well, that’s not my name” he said.

“Well, Fani isn’t my name!” I said. How annoying could this guy get?

“Fine, let’s introduce ourselves properly.” He said warmly, and it was in that moment that i realized i had been duped. But, what was i supposed to do?

“Fine, I’m Epiphony.” He chortled. That’s right, he chortled at my name! “I suppose your name is much better?” Then his chortle turned serious as he answered, “Petri Petrovich” then i chortled.

“I think i like Bouffanti better.” I said laughingly

“I like Fani better” he said, real mature.

“What would you like to be called?”  I asked. I mean the chances of me and him ever running into each other is close to….i can’t do math, so i guess never accurately describes it.

Petri sat there for a moment pondering,” Yeah, i guess Bouffanti is better. But, can i call you Fani?”

“No!” I say irritatedly. Epiphony is bad enough but. “Tum-Tum calls me Epi.”

“How about Eli?”

“No,”

“How about Fant?”

“No”

“Phony?”

And so went the next hour as I tried to make it to my ghetto car in the ghetto parkinglot of the ghetto MegaBookstore.

When I was in middle school I used to have a friend who was a lingerer. I would accidentally run into him outside of 711, and couldn’t escape his talkative hold by conventional means. He would always find a way to keep talking, even after the straw from my big-gulp icee started making those unrewarding slurping noises. Slurp…time to refill me…slurp…slurp. I would tell him my mom needed me home in 15 minutes, and somehow he’d continue the conversation another 45 minutes.

These conversations were always pointless. I remember standing and slurping, as he ranted about the sharpness of the rocks against his feet. I forgot to mention he never wore shoes. The only successful way to exit our conversations was to walk away. If I said “bye” he’d just try to draw me into a conversation of the origin of the word “bye”. If I gave him an over the shoulder wave he’d tell me he thought I was waving at someone else. The only exit strategy was to walk away, not look back, and keep on walking.

An hour into a conversation with Bouffanti had me convinced he also suffered from the same lingering tendencies as my old middle school friend. I mean, the only type of people who can keep me outside of the Mega longer than my required hours are lingerers, and sometimes Thoreau.

Bouffanti is somewhat of a hotness enigma. He has the tendencies of someone who would be just weird enough to be one of my co-workers, but the looks of a one-hit-wonder failed pop sensation. In an hour, I learned that aside from an enjoyment of lingering and pushing me into the wet gravel he was a Nickelback fan, legitimate reader of Karen Kingsbury, definitely single, and a mega flirt.

Even though he was annoying, I maybe sort-of-kinda really did not mind lingering outside of the mega with him. Any man who can see past the abstinence uniform and into a girl’s true soul–enough to save her from an uncontrolled van—deserves a few minutes.

But no man…deserves over an hour on linger time. I’m just not that kind of girl.

I could see there was no exit strategy. No way for me to say goodbye, unless I said it as I sped off (as much as an Aspire can speed) saying it. The time between me and Bouffanti was up. Maybe I’d never see him again. Maybe I would. It was up to fate now.

My heel made a noise in the wet gravel as I turned away mid-Bouffanti sentence, stuck the key into the car lock, and opened my door. I forgot I couldn’t make any signs of really leaving, and gave Bouffanti a half-smile.

“Wait!” he yelled at me his face falling slightly.

“For what? I’ve got to get a move on…and you’re just ranting away”

He pulled out the small brown paper out of his pocket. The paper I’d forgotten about…The paper he stole. Bouffanti’s face did a 90s special effect morph into Mattie Daniels as the paper turned into a hot wheel. I had  to know.

Little Mattie’s face on Ricky Martin’s body raised an eyebrow at me, and gave me a smirk that let me know our little conversation wasn’t over just yet.