Joe Williams home
I couldn't help but to write another one this weekend. This is another one about a girl, it's called The Robot. Sarah has a quality, she can use her stature and personality to blend in, avoid contact and go unnoticed. At 5'2", skinny, with pasty skin and a red bowl cut, like the one you had when you were a kid, she was easily over looked and if you did notice her you would think she's a boy. But no bother to her, she survived high school in south city and college at SLU relatively unscathed. As I soon learned, her skill had been honed by years of being ignored by her parents at first, followed by peers and teachers at school. She learned at an early age that get through life easily is not to stick your neck out. The smart vocal kids, aren't correct all the time and look stupid when they are wrong. The loud stupid kids are just that, loud and stupid. If you are average in as many possible ways as you can you get through this social obstacles under the radar and without dealing with the bullshit. "Not to mention they are f*&king robots anyway" she would say. We began our so called relationship in college, although I'm not sure you could call it that. We never dated, never kissed, never held hands, would usually just watch TV and talk about the outside world like it was light years away not just on the other side of the dormitory wall. Each time we would hang out, usually once a week, usually on the weekend when we would blow off homework and weren't partying. Not that we would party, because we wouldn't get invited. At least she wouldn't get invited, then that would make my invite null and void. "They are all f&%king robots. Why would you want to go with them?" After a couple semesters and returning to school in the Fall we fell back into the same routine, just like the year before. My summer was filled with activity, mowing grass for the state, riding and racing all the time. At least thats how I would describe it, "the short version" is what I would call it. As expected she would take her turn depicting her summer as best she could, "You want my short version? I would spent most days in my dark bed room contemplating suicide." I would take this with a grain of salt, knowing or at least thinking that I know she was being melodramatic. Any time she would talk like this I would try to turn it positive, some how. I would ask her things like "What about a job? Money is a nice thing to have around." Her usual reply would be along these lines "Why so I can go by clothes in the little girls section at JC Penny? Oh yea, and while I am at the mall I'll have the benefit of walking by Abercrombie and Fitch so I can see what girls that are built anatomically correct look like and go home feeling inadequate. " It was hard to reply to this with anything but "I'm not sure what to tell you then." While after a while we did not hang out nearly as much, mostly because our personalities diverged but we remained friends throughout college. We both graduated and went on to bigger things. She ended up finding a job in a lab on the east coast. The last time I saw her was during Thanksgiving she was home for the holiday. Why, I'm not sure. It's not like she enjoyed spending time with her parents anyway. I called her a week or so prior to see if she would like to get together and catch up, she obliged. She came over to my place on Friday night to hang out, talk, whatever. As strange as it sounds, it was good to see her old same bowl cut. Although I do think she gained a little weight. I figured she was making good money and ended up eating more. I guess that means she will have to buy those clothes anyway. But, I didn't say that to her. We talked like old times and she hadn't changed much mentally or socially. At the end of the night I asked her to go out with some friends and I on Saturday night. This made me feel better about her mental disposition going forward. She replied "I realized something while living by myself in Richmond [VA], when you get out of college you are really by yourself. No one is around unless you allow them to be." I agreed and told her that I had been trying to help her figure this out for a while now. She continued "I realized that it's better to be a robot than sitting at home and seeing that f#&king Ty Pennington on TV every night." We laughed and she went home. The next night I assume she left for home, because she didn't show and didn't return my calls.
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