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Nov. 2nd, 2001 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wickedfleaLonzie also had this ugly green 70s Camaro that he was really proud of. I think he paid like $200 for it. He'd always ask everyone, "You seen my Camaro?" (He pronounced it something like "cuh-MARR-ah.") People would be like, "Yeah Lonzie... I've seen it... *snicker*" One time, Lonzie was cruising through the parking lot of my high school at lunchtime. I think he had dropped out at that point, but he wanted to impress all the kids with his bad ride. While he was moving along at about three miles an hour with his arm out the window, the freaking door from the driver's side fell completely off the vehicle. I've come to regard chance happenings like that as the truest examples of the Beautiful that life has to offer.
Like the time in fifth grade, when Mike Boyd threw a half-eaten apple across the playground and it clocked Melanie Powe right in the head. Bits of apple got all up in her hair, and she had to go to the bathroom to get herself cleaned up. All the guys in my circle of friends were ecstatic, for Melanie was the ringleader of a group of rival girls that we disparagingly referred to as "The Frogs." Melanie finally reappeared outside right before the end of our lunch period. Soon, the bell rang, and Bill Card, knowing he couldn't take food inside, turned and hurled his half-eaten apple across the playground, pegging Melanie Powe right in the fucking head for the second time in one lunch period. Neither Mike nor Bill had aimed for Melanie, yet providence smiled on us all that fine day. You can't ask why; you can't ask how. You just have to accept it as Beautiful.
Like the time in fifth grade, when Mike Boyd threw a half-eaten apple across the playground and it clocked Melanie Powe right in the head. Bits of apple got all up in her hair, and she had to go to the bathroom to get herself cleaned up. All the guys in my circle of friends were ecstatic, for Melanie was the ringleader of a group of rival girls that we disparagingly referred to as "The Frogs." Melanie finally reappeared outside right before the end of our lunch period. Soon, the bell rang, and Bill Card, knowing he couldn't take food inside, turned and hurled his half-eaten apple across the playground, pegging Melanie Powe right in the fucking head for the second time in one lunch period. Neither Mike nor Bill had aimed for Melanie, yet providence smiled on us all that fine day. You can't ask why; you can't ask how. You just have to accept it as Beautiful.
