I'm a 21 year old gamer from Canada who refuses to accept rational or logical explanations of all things. Armed with a large vocabulary and total disregard for morals and opinions, I fight for Justice. Or Destruction. Which ever gets me teh pwn.
Here's another tale of my childhood and being discovered. I wonder if any of you have had similar experiences. Enjoy!
Fear is a powerful motivator. For thousands of years, it has been crucial to our survival. before we were the dominant lifeforms on the planet, we had much to fear and much to run from. It was a lifeline. To this day, fear still keeps us from putting our lives into too much danger. Fear is an unsung ally, that someday, may save your life. This is a story about one of the many times that I've been to stupid to realize a dangerous situation and Fear bailed me out.
I was 12, deep in the throws of an hormonal hell storm, that tormented me every minute of every day. Puberty had struck and it wasn't taking any prisoners. I was starting to grow, my voice was changing and hair was sprouting everywhere. I initially, had dreams of turning into Chewbacca, but a grade 7 sex education class put those aspirations to rest. On the plus side, the very same class introduced me to a pair of things that would rule my thought process for the rest of my life.
Now, I could go into great detail about the first time I was informed about breasts. About how after 12 years of fighting the "Cootie Menace", these two wonderful creations were about to make me surrender unconditionally to their power. I could tell you about the hours of thought I put into trying to get my hands on a pair of these warlocks. However, I'm going to tell you about the first time I saw a pair of these. In print form anyway.
I was at a friend's house for the night, several of us were. It was my friend Phil's birthday and the party proper was all but over. The guests who weren't staying had left and Mario Kart 64 had been fired up. The six of us were glued to the TV, controllers switching, turns being taken. Conversation ran between school, accusations of alternative sexual orientations and more deeply, our new found fascination of the opposite sex.
It was here when I had to pee. But not just any usual urination. This force struck my urethra like a car, careening into another. Like its passenger, I was ejected from my seat.
"Phil," I cried out in a panic, "where is your bathroom?"
He gestured towards the stairs. "Up the stairs, down the hall, across from my brothers room," he said.
Following his directions, I bolted to the bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door. The release I felt was like Heaven. Several hours of pop and juice burst out of me, causing my form to slouch and drop my head back in relief. I rolled my head to the side and gazed out the bathroom door and out into the hall.
Phil's Brother's door was open about 2 inches. Insignificant to some, but I spotted something that my mind immediately recognized and registered. Raised up off the floor on top of his bed, I saw a boob. A BOOB!
My eyes widened. The stream stopped.
With my mouth agape, I flushed the toilet, wash and dried my hands, and ventured out into the hall, all without breaking sight with my target. Like at a street corner, I made a point of looking both ways for oncoming traffic. The coast was clear. I tiptoed across the hall and gingerly pushed open the door.
I can only imagine what it felt like for King Arther to pull the sword from the stone, but I can guess it felt pretty similar to the emotion I experienced as I pulled the first porno mag off of the bed. To 12 year olds everywhere, I would be hailed as the King. The power I felt in my hands was indescribable. I knew I had to share this knowledge, this godsend, with my peasants. Clutching the nudie mag close to my chest, I regally descended the stairs.
With each step, I came to see my friends as lesser beings, as I was moments ago. Like apes, they worshiped their false Idol, pixellated images racing along mindlessly. They, like I, stuffed their faces with junk food, chortling about their debauchery. However, I brought salvation. Rising it from my chest, I lifted the magazine above my head and announced the glory that I held above me. Immediately, I had their full being of attention, Mario Kart shunned. They saw the Truth I had brought from above, and discovered our true calling.
Like a well-choreographed routine, the next few seconds played out with well practiced precision. The blinds were closed, the front door locked and the lights dimmed. All the players returned to crowd around the coffee table as I lowered the magazine. Each of us holding our breath, we opened the magazine and perused its contents.
Never before has six 12 year olds been so silent for an extended period of time.
This silence, however, was ended with a "click".
The front door opened. Phil's brother walked in through the door.
The situation can only be summed up by this video.
Phil's brother had just come home from work. As he stepped up to the door and pressed his key into the lock, I'm sure the last sight that would greet his eyes would have been the six of us huddled around one of his porno mags. This is probably why he was so mad. And why he started to chase us.
I have never moved so fast before in my entire life. Seeing Phil's brother lunge at us, I tucked the treasure under my arm and bolted with the group for the rear sliding door. As we emerged into his back yard, we scattered in different directions. Not pausing to look back, I ran as fast as I could back to my own house, 6 houses down. I could hear his yells as he followed someone else, fear thundering through my veins. I ran until I couldn't breathe. I slowly stopped and put my hands on my knees. Panting, I pulled out my prize and looked at it. My jaw dropped as I realized what I had done. I had grabbed a Time Magazine that must have been on the coffee table as well. I turned and looked back up the street. It was empty. I knew what I had to do.
The sliding door was still slightly open. I slipped into the house and walked slowly towards the living room and ultimately the coffee table. My head whipping around to check each corner, I approached the magazine, still opened on the table. I stepped towards it and grabbed it with both hands. It was mine! I lifted it above my head in triumph and shouted into the air.
The magazine was lifted from my hands.
"What have you got there, Luke?"
It was Phil's mom.
All I heard was a loud wail and a thud as I ran out the front door.