mercredi 1 août 2007

the meatball story

Okay, enough sad things. I have to stop being "saddo". I first saw the word "saddo" in a message from my cousin Fah to my brother Noel (also known as "Kuya" in recent posts). And I've adopted it and have been saying it. It's also fun to say. Say it out loud: "Saddo". Here's a link that explains the word: saddo.

So the meatball story. It's a funny story, and I've been saving it for after the sadness that is leaving my friends in San Francisco. It's truly a testament to me and my brother's social awkwardness and just one of many interesting and funny adventures that we share together.

Two weeks ago when I was here in LA, Kuya and I went to a wedding for a family friend. She went to my high school (Rosary) and was in the same year as my brother who went to Rosary's brother school (Servite). We went to the Mass first. We sat in the back since we were late. I asked him if he was getting communion, and he said no, and I said, "Is it because all your high school classmates are here?" I don't remember what he said, but he didn't get communion. What a dork.

We arrived at the reception that was in the heart of Orange County at this golf course. Kuya and I always make fun of Orange County, and I think we both secretly knew that this was going to be a riot. Sometimes, when we see some emo boy walking down the street or some skinny boy with tight pants on, we'll just look at each other, and then start laughing. Outside on the deck, there were loads of people heading to the open bar and socializing. I'd go and get drinks from the bar for my brother and parents, and we stayed inside in this sort of darkened sitting area, away from the crowd, but perfect for people watching.

Kuya then started eyeing all these people who had small plates of appetizers. I didn't know where they were getting the food. Here is what transpired.
Kuya: Go get me some meatballs.
Me: What?! No you go get meatballs. I'm not even hungry.
Kuya: I think there's meatballs and fried dumplings. They're outside on the deck. GO GET ME SOME!!!
Me: NO! You get your own! Why don't you want to go out there?!
Kuya: Why don't you want to go out there?!
Me: 'Cuz there's people out there.
Kuya: (silence)
Me: Why are you shy?
Kuya: Why are YOU shy?

This conversation went on for a while...I tried going out there to get his stupid meatballs, but then chickened out at the last second. We even prowled around the lobby area if we could see exactly where the appetizers are outside without having to go outside. It was fruitless.

Kuya: Okay...if you get me meatballs and dumplings, I will buy your backpack for Paris.
Me: Really?
Kuya: Yes. How much did you plan on spending?
Me: At the most $150.
Kuya: Okay.
Me: So you're willing to pay $150 for a small plate of meatballs and dumplings just because you don't want to have to see or talk to people.
Kuya: Just go!

I went. I thought about the deal for a second, and my Dad just told me to go already and get the stupid meatballs. I did it and was pretty stealthy about it, and I didn't have to talk to anyone. What dorks we are. What hermits. We won't even get a freaking plate of meatballs if it means having to navigate through a crowd.

1 commentaires:

Eli Edmundson a dit…

Pretty funny! I was like that till my last year of high school when I decided I wasn't really living life, just observing, it was hard but I forced myself to follow any impulse I had, went a little wild for a few months then eventually found a balance. Now I chit chat with strangers all the time but it still feels a little foreign, like I'm acting in a play. Good luck in Paris!