Sunday, May 25, 2008

Run Hysum Run

I hate babies. You know, what’s the point of them? They have tiny feet, tiny hands, a tiny head and a tiny bladder. When my girl friend told me she might pregnant I figured I had a tiny problem.

I have long legs, I can run. Run away. So what if that would mean I would have to drop out of high school. Richard Branson dropped out, look at him now. Of course his story involves virgin, mine does not. I should have run away when I had the chance.

It was just an hour ago when she told me

“I’ve been missing my periods”

“Yea, me too, I have been skipping class”

“No not those periods, my female periods”

That should have been a sign to run away, right. Run, drop out and roll. Bill Gates dropped out, look where he is now. Of course Bill Gates is a genius. He would have known when his girl friend was trying to tell him she is pregnant. Missing periods is the boyfriends’ equivalent of the blue screen of death. CTRL+ALT+DEL, CTRL+ALT+DEL. Restart, please restart; nothing.

“I think I might be pregnant”

“No you are not”

“and you are the father”

“No I am not”

“I would like you to come with me to buy the pregnancy test”

“No I won’t”

I wasn’t exactly speechless; I just had very little speech. This meant she had won that little argument and we were going to the pharmacy. You know those pharmacy people have a great sense of irony. The pregnancy tests are kept right next to the condoms. That’s not greatest sales pitch is it, shows how much confidence the have in the condoms.

So we buy the test and go to the star bucks next door. My girlfriend walks into the bathroom inside.

So here I am in star bucks now pacing outside of a bathroom in Starbucks while my girlfriend is inside peeing on a stick. No she’s inside pissing on my parade. The pregnancy test is the worst test in the world. Its not just any test, it’s a pop quiz. No way to prepare for it. It’s probably the only test in which if you pass you are screwed. It’s karma I guess. You are screwed because you screwed.

This was my future right here. For the rest of life I would be working in Star bucks being paid ten dollars an hour trying to raise my family. I am still pacing in Star bucks and my strides get longer and longer till I reach the door and then I run.

I run, I am Forest Gump being chased by the Terminator. I am running. Not looking back. I won’t stop. I run and I run out of breath. Faster and faster. I am a hit and run boyfriend. I am sure a fertile man like myself can make something of my life. Responsibility is over-rated. But I still wonder a tiny bit. Was she pregnant?