"It was mild fall day and I woke up like any other day, dazed and still erect from the fantasy of a dream my mind had construed the prior night. I showered and slapped on the nearest pair of blue jeans my arms could reach, tossed on a questionably clean Hanes t-shirt, and threw on the same pair of smelly Toms I wear every day. For the most part this day seemed like any other day, this seemingly normal day would prove to be one of the most violating experiences in recent memory. I slipped into class several minutes late and to my dismay I was left sitting next to a rather hefty fella and on the other side was a kid that looked as if sleep was his last priority (foreshadowing). Class went on like any other day and as the time passed I noticed the young sleepless gent inhabiting the quarters to my near left start to doze off. Another twenty minutes of class passed by and the carbon, oxygen and hydrogen composition started moving, ever so slowly. The direction in which his unconscious head started moving was towards my shoulder; I quickly noticed this and realized what ghastly act was in my near future. As his head crept closer and closer, I braced myself for impact, it was inevitable…This young man was sleeping on my shoulder, out cold and down for the count. I quickly tried to lunge forward in my chair in hopes that he would awaken, but my feeble attempts were unsuccessful and only seemed to rock him to into a deeper coma; I also tried quietly shouting in his ear, but I didn’t want to risk disrupting lecture and certainly didn’t want to risk the attractive girl in front of me seeing another man sleeping peacefully on my shoulder. This was a horrible dilemma to be caught up in. How would I wake him without humiliating him and more importantly myself?
This is part of the story where you think I came up with something genius and perfect to wake
the sleeping giant from his slumber. If you were thinking the aforementioned, you are horribly mistaken. I did nothing. I let the kid sit there the entire remaining minutes of the lecture and when the hustle and the bustle of the rest of class finally awoke him, he looked at me and all he uttered was, “Sorry, I am very sleepy” I thought to myself, that does not nearly justify the stark and utter horror that had just befallen on me. After several minutes of packing my things up and trying to grasp what had just happened to me, I glanced at my shoulder and immediately my gag reflex was triggered, as I felt the moist patch on my shirt seep through the cloth and trickle onto my beautiful porcelain…It was a drool mark on my fucking shirt. I went home, stripped off my clothes carefully avoiding the soiled sleeve of my shirt and hopped into the shower, I scrubbed and scrubbed hoping that would be the remedy to the parasitic saliva that covered my shoulder, but even after all that, it was still impressed in my mind... This traumatic event has ruined me as a person and ever since the day that this incident happened I have not been the same. My life will never return to its prior unsoiled sleeve glory. Never."
hahahahahahaha
ReplyDelete