I know you’ve all been suffering through the really cold cold out there, for which you should be really bitter, but not near as much as me. This guy right here, with the two thumbs pointing up at him, had to go outside yesterday and start my car early. Then I had to use the scraper thing to get a thin sheet of frost off the windows. And if that weren’t enough, I had to turn the heater on. If that weren’t bad enough, I had to wear a hoody type jacket, that, GET THIS, had long sleeves over my short sleeve shirt. Not to mention that I had to wear socks. The temperature hit an almost antartic temperature of 47 F, (8.3333 C for the few people that use that scale that makes sense) by the end of the day, and the sun peaked through but only briefly. In fact, in a horrific thought that only few could ever imagine I almost thought of putting gloves on. Obviously I would never do that even if it got down to the low 40’s, but to even imagine it, was making my insides freeze up. But let’s not talk about weather anymore. It is so boooring. Besides, it’s not really on anyone’s mind anyway.
Speaking of boring, you all know who Micheal Bay is right? The award winning director of such classic introspective films as Transfomers, Transformer Revenge of the Fallen, and The Rock? Well, this classy director of fine film was at CES, which is known as the nerd forum of new technology and he was talking about something pretty unfamiliar to him-film. So of course, he struggled mightily when the teleprompter had a bit of an oopsie. Luckily, he handled it with the bitter class and dignity of a Hollywood Bigwig that is fed every word they are supposed to say in public. He walked off the stage to politely ask someone to fix the telepromptor, because he couldn’t possibly come up with anything about film directing that would be of any use to an audience on his own.
If that weren’t awkward enough, let’s finally get to my growing up years. When I was in high school, I did my best to try to be invisible, to be an outcast and alienate everyone I knew. Because I was marginally above the average height of the average kid, I fit in slightly with people, if only to hold down the bench in basketball games. Because my parents forced my hideous gap teeth to be railroaded by some unsafe metal in my mouth for two years, I had a straighter overbite that only made people only giggle slightly to each other when I lumbered by. And while I tried my best to not wash my face in order to keep those attractive red zit things on my face, eventually they mostly cleared all on their own(when I say mostly, I mean I still get them) with Accutane and other zit creams, so people could see my actual skin color. Luckily, I had the biggest defense against other high school students. The defense that was referred to in Bitter Magazine as “the most epic social awkwardness you have ever seen”. I blushed at every corner, hemmed and hawed at every question and my intelligence was deeply hidden to where no one would ever be able to find it, including me.
Despite all my measures taken to fit out, and my ability to extricate myself from the hordes of really cool and semi-cool and pretty much not cool at all crowds, I was unable to shake two people that somehow wanted to sit with me at lunch. Maybe it was because they were also trying really hard to fit out too, but I knew it wasn’t true because I saw them actively trying to talk to other people. I did my best to say stuff that were really non sequitir and out of place and at the most inopportune times, but somehow they seemed to be impervious to my social miscues. Dang their shields of obliviousness! Luckily, I was able to be in a couple of classes with them, where we were able to be in my favorite method of fitting out, group projects! The teacher didn’t want to assign groups, they wanted us to awkwardly find our own partner! Of course, I would have gone with that one lunch table eating guy, but I much preferred the sitting there awkwardly to find that every other person in class has a partner and I don’t stare. I got the chance to be assigned by the teacher to a group that already had two, but “could use a third”.
Then, I did my best to get D’s and F’s in certain classes so I would have to take classes again in the summer. That way people could point at me and say how horrible of a summer I was going to have because instead of staying home and annoying my mom, I would have to go to school and annoy the teachers and other students who didn’t want to be there. It was also a good way to avoid parties or seeing other kids I knew at the mall, so I could avoid the awkward hello or look away and pretend I didn’t just see you there glance. It was a hard thing to do, trying to fit out, because there was so much pressure to do things completely wrong, but for some reason I always managed to just enough things right to make my life miserable and bitter.
As I get older, and I reflect on the pressures of fitting out, I look back bitterly, realizing how much work I put into it and how much work it didn’t have to be. I don’t worry near as much at work, or other adult like functions nowaday on fitting out. Now it just comes so much more naturally. I am much freerer, to be who I really am not, and be awkward in a much more natural way. I don’t know why it was so hard back then. Maybe it was the hormones, or the hair(or maybe hair and hormones were connected somehow) that was so out of control, but now I am completely comfortable in my uncomfortability. Or maybe my pants are just a little too tight.
Bitter Fitting Out Ben