Don’t go to the malt shop stoned. Don’t let your little sister talk you into it, even if she begs. Next time she wants to go out for milkshakes, just say no, no matter how much you enjoy a delicious chocolate-peanut butter extra thick malt. Its not worth it.
Its not worth it, because what should have been a $10 dollar trip to the ice cream parlor instead turned into a 2 hour, cross state trek to Toys R Us. The very same Toys R Us that is now a might bit richer thanks to you’re dumb ass. Just tell your little sister to fuck off and watch family guy instead. Its just not worth the pain.
It all starts with you lounged on your bed room, enjoying the fuck out of the quality talent on the Comedy Central Friday Afternoon Stand-Up Marathon, and the quality weed in your bong. Suddenly there’s a knock at the door. Because you still live at home with your folks, and you’d prefer to keep them in the dark about your drug abuse, your brain fires off thousands of thoughts per second, and determines the best plan of action is to leap up in a moment in panic, fling your window open, turn on your fan all while yelling that you’re not decent, just to buy some time. Your brain thinks this is the best plan of action, but its fucking wrong. See, in its moment of panic, your brain registers all the threats to your safety, but completely forgets you are sitting shirtless in a shitty, oversized vinyl bean-bag chair. Suddenly, your brain registers the ripping, squonking noise that occurred just mili-seconds prior, and then your whole back erupts with the ferocity of Tattooine’s twin suns. Bad news bears, you’re fucked for the next 8 seconds and you stand stunned, trying to wiggle and jut out your chest in hopes of assuaging the pain. It goes away, and now you’ve only got a few seconds to get to the window, the fan and the door.
You’re stoned and decide, “Fuck it, im just gonna talk to whoever is on the other side of my door through the tiniest crack I can make. Yeah, that will work and not seem super awkward at all.”
Bad news, bucko… wrong again.
“Lord John, favorite brother, would you like to drive me to get a milkshake, as I am only 14, well under legal driving age, and have a severe craving?” says little sister, 14, and well under the legal driving age.
Suddenly, you’re brain is thrown a curve ball; leave the comfort and safety of home or go have the third most amazing liquid known to man served up to you with a fancy, extra wide straw. Well, you’re stoned so….
You arrive at the malt shop, order up, pretend to be as “not-high” as possible, momentarily forget this and giggle at a little dog someone brought with them, remember your task and stifle laughter, instead choosing to engage your sister in conversation about high school, which you mostly don’t pay attention to because you’re way too busy thinking about your frosty treat. God damn this taking forever.
Suddenly, a curve ball! You’re little sister, decides to go next door to Starbucks to use the restroom. As you sit patiently alone, being “not-high” you make bleary, watery eye contact with the cute Asian girl that just walked in the door. She smiles, which makes you feel nice, then you realize shes your old pastors daughter, which is not nice. She’s also with her large black boyfriend, which makes you remind yourself how okay with black people you are, and how you don’t feel slightly intimidated by his manliness and assumed dance skills. Then, Asian girl speaks.
She askes if you remember her.
Of course you do, she’s Pastor Dave’s daughter.
But do you remember her name, she asks.
You think its Jenna, so you say Jenna.
Its not Jenna… Jenna is her sister.
She then makes you guess four or five more times before receiving her phone order and walking outside. The exchange ended awkwardly, but at least it ended. Little sister returns, and in the 15 more minutes you end up waiting for your shake, you tell her the awkward tale. She laughs, the shakes arrive and you walk out the door with her arguing (rather convincingly) that the trip should not end at the malt shop, but rather continue on to Toys R Us. You’re still stoned, so this becomes the best idea on the planet. Asian pastors daughter and black boyfriend are in the car directly across from yours, and when you realize they’ve been waving at you for at least 45 seconds, you give an awkward farewell wave, and reverse the fuck outta that place.
Long story short, you get yelled at for testing bikes, have to put all the balls back in the ball basket you knocked over, learn that bike horns make you scream like a little girl when you’re surprised with one, and then end up with $200 worth of Nerf guns, which, it turns out, are not the status symbol at 25 that they were at 13.
Lesson learned, right? Don’t go to the malt shop; no one respects you if you cant afford a tank of gas because you spent you’re paycheck on Nerf Guns. No one.