We hate it when our friends become successful

I recently heard from an old high school friend of mine. Well, actually I looked at his "My Space" page and left a comment which he then commented on etc. Anyway, in high school he was sort of an outcast...a loner, so to speak. (Sort of like Pee Wee Herman in Pee Wee's Big Adventure when he tells Dotty, "You don't want to get mixed up with a guy like me. I'm a loner, Dotty. A rebel." The thing Pee Wee forgot to mention to Dotty was that he was a porn theater masturbater too, but maybe that's what he meant by "loner". Makes sense. Incidentally, I have never been to or even SEEN a movie theater that shows porn, but can you imagine sitting in a seat in a porn theater? I mean, you would have to bring a plastic drop-cloth to sit on because who knows what kind of bodily fluids your butt might come in contact with if you didn't! Yikes! I have a friend who went on a "nude cruise" once. Yes, it is exactly what it sounds like...a bunch of naked people on a Carnival Cruise ship. Anyway, she said that you had to bring a towel with you to dinner because you couldn't sit on the dining room chairs without one. Okay...so I thought about that one for a little while...I assume that the chairs were upholstered, right? Think about what part of your ass would be in direct contact with the chair cushion and what it might leave behind...Is a towel REALLY adequate protection?)
Anyway, where was I? Oh, my high school friend, the loner. He didn't play sports, he didn't play an instrument, he wasn't in student government and he wasn't some sort of a brainiac. Let's put it in "Breakfast Club" terms...he wasn't jocky, like Emilio Estevez; he wasn't a dork, like Anthony Michael Hall; he wasn't a bad ass, like Judd Nelson (his character was totally my type in high school but I only dated guys from other schools so I wouldn't be distracted during school hours); and he wasn't rich enough to be Molly Ringwald...he was more like Ally Sheedy's character, only male and without dandruff. Rob (that's his name) had jet black hair that was all spiked on the top (it was the 80's, ok?) and totally white skin and he wanted to be a DJ. He drove an ancient Chevy Nova that you needed to have a pencil to get into. The car doors had handles that looked like this:

So, you grasp the handle and press your thumb on the button thing to open the door, right? Well, the button was gone on both handles, so you had to stick a pencil in the hole where the button used to be to pop the door open. Whenever we went anywhere he would say, "I'll drive, you bring the pencil." Did I mention that my mother absolutely hated Rob? He had a funny haircut and a crappy car that she was embarrassed to have parked in front of our house and his family lived on the wrong side of town and his brother's name was in the police reports once because he shot a gun at a passing car and didn't I know that I was going to be judged by the company I kept, blah, blah, blah. My mother wanted me to be friends with boys that were clean-cut and drove nice cars and played sports. I wanted to be friends with people who were bright and interesting and wanted to do more than drink beer and get blow jobs on Friday nights. I went on a date once with the cutest guy in my school...he was a wrestler. He picked me up, took me back to his house (his parents were gone) and wanted to know if I would suck his dick. I said no, so then he asked me to do his homework. I think I said something like, "Does this shit usually work?" and he said, "Well, yes..." As I recall I said something like, "You have got to be kidding me," and then I laughed and laughed. I also remember walking home. Great guy. I think he told everyone on the wrestling team that he nailed me and I was too disgusted by the entire thing to even fight back. Besides, at least it was the cutest guy in school lying about sleeping with me and not the ugliest guy in school. Right? Always look on the bright side of life. That was the one and only time I dated someone from my stupid high school.
One day I decided that Rob really needed a pair of Calvin Klein jeans (did I mention that this was in the 80's?) so we drove his Nova (did you know that No Va means doesn't go in Spanish?) to the local County Seat. The store was in a strip mall in our hometown and on the outside of the store, above the door were the words COUNTY SEAT in red 3-D lit-up letters. The letters stuck out like this:

except they were red. Get the picture?

Well, as Rob and I were walking into the store he was throwing his keys up in the air and catching them and we were laughing about how much my mother hated him. He was really bugged by it, though (I imagine it was because he had spent the bulk of his life being judged by his appearance and his brother's misdemeanors) and he kept throwing his keys up higher and higher. On his last toss before we were going to enter the store, Rob really whipped those keys up and we both watched them land in the middle of the 3-D letter "O" in the word COUNTY. Now, these letters were a good 15 feet above the ground, if not more. We both just stood there. I think Rob even mutely stuck his hand out, palm up, hoping the keys would just fall in it. Needless to say I started laughing. Rob just stood there staring at the "O". I was laughing so hard I was crying and I said, "What are you going to do?" Rob said, "I'm going to go buy some Calvin Klein jeans."

I don't remember if Rob got jeans that day, but I do know that the store manager had to call the fire department to come with the ladder truck

to get his keys out of the sign. It was hilarious. I, being the perverse person I am, couldn't wait to get home and tell my mother.
So, one day Rob was supposed to come and pick me up so we could go somewhere and my mom decided that she had just had it! She wasn't going to stand by and watch me hang out with someone fun and interesting! She wanted me to be popular and slutty! (I don't think that was her intention...but she did encourage me not to quit cheerleading when I was a senior...I did quit, by the way.) It was a beautiful day and the front door was open as Rob approached our house, keys and pencil in hand. Needless to say he heard everything my mother said. She said things like, "Why do you have to bring home all the strays?" and "You hang around with him so much because he hasn't got any other friends!" and all sorts of hurtful, terrible things. So, he turned around and walked away. We never went and did whatever it was we were going to do that day because he wouldn't even talk to me when I called.
The next day I got a delivery from FTD. It was a huge basket of flowers with a card that said, "Sorry I couldn't see you yesterday. I was busy hanging out with all my "friends". Love, Rob the Stray." My mom was so pissed off. I thought it was brilliant. I still do.
Later on Rob became a very successful DJ, then a program director (just like Andy Travis from WKRP in Cincinnati) and a stand-up comedian. He also found God, became born-again and told me Elton John was going straight to hell because he's gay...but that's another story. My mom has since apologized to me many times for being so hard on Rob. Even better, she has apologized to Rob. Born again or not, he couldn't help but tell her how well he'd done in his career and rub her nose in her judgemental-ness. Oh well, he knows God will forgive him.