Tall Boys, Cold Food, and a Need for More Cellular Data

Tall boys covered in lean muscle with good eyes, skin, and hair that looks fun to run your fingers through. Every otaku's girl's dream.

I mean, maybe it's just my dream. But that's besides the point.

SO today was the RBCS Fashion Show, which has 1st grade, 3rd grade, and 8th grade models in it. I did my last fashion show last year, and let me tell you, it was a ton of fun.

Speaking of last year, last year I learned of a boy whom all of my friends seemed to be friends with but I only knew his name and face (kind, sorta, not really). For lack of a better substitute, we will call this boy "Spencer". I mean, the kid seemed cool enough, and the stories told about him were always a good source of amusement, but for some reason, it seemed I was the only one in my small circle of Red Bank Charter friends who hadn't met this "Spencer". In fact, my knowledge about this boy was so scarce, I'm not even sure he knows who I am. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he didn't. I just find people like him interesting. Like a good book that you skimmed the back of, but lose it so often you have no time to read it through. 

Anyways, today at the fashion show, said "Spencer" was there. That was another strange thing. He didn't go to our school. He might have never even stepped a foot into our school. But he was always at every single school event we had. And I mean, every. Single. One.

I still have not spoken two words to the guy.

So, fast forward back to today, and see me in the Salvation army, cold eggplant-parm-sub-thing in hand as we walk around aimlessly while the adults help clean up. Those big mop/broom things are sweeping all over the place, catching crumpled programs, candy wrappers, abandoned plates of pizza, and raffle ticket stubs. By the food stand, some moms are rationing out the leftovers, so they don't have to bring home more leftovers than needed. I just keep moving. Circling. Running patterns all over the tile floor as I enjoy my cold parmesan and listen to JRock music. And in the corner, kicking what looks like a fruit loop back and forth, is one of the older Charter Alumni and "Spencer".

Go figure.

Currently, the people closest to my age in the place are those two, but I really don't want to talk to them. Even when the kid who did go to my middle school was still in Charter we never really talked much. And as for "Spencer"... that's an awkward situation I wouldn't mind avoiding. So instead, I pull out my phone and plan to check twitter or work on one of my many unfinished novels or do something that does not require me making awkward conversation with people I know, but not really. There's just one thing.

I have no data or texts left.

!@%^&*#%!$!%&##$%!&!*@^#^*!(#^$*!(!@#$&$(&#(@^_)(%(^@%#*$+@&!%^#*$

My plan renews on the tenth, but three days seems like a really long time when you kind of want your plan renewed now. But I tried my best to deal with my frustration (these first world problems are real bummers) and ended up eating more junk. Surprise, surprise. Typical Maya.

But even as I stood awkwardly by the food table, stuffing my mouth to prevent any need for conversation, I couldn't help but unconsciously track "Spencer" as he moved around the room. I'm not a stalker. Or a creeper. Or weird in any way  (probably). But really, people like this "Spencer" are just too interesting for their own good.

And so, I wasted the past half hour writing about the hour I wasted watching some friend of my friends out of the corner of my eyes.










.... The end.