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Recent real-life Experience. The Thread.

Davinq

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Mace MacLeod Newbie

Mace MacLeod

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[responsible parent mode]

 

Drugs, alcohol and weapons in school are a recipe for disaster. If any one of you know of someone in your class/school engaging in this sort of behaviour, chances are it's not a secret and there are plenty of other people who know about it as well, so you should ignore any (99% of the time) empty threats and report them to the teachers/administration staff immediately. You can do so anonymously, so you won't have the "tattletale" mark of shame hanging over you, and it's entirely possible that in getting the person caught and forcing them to confront their behaviour, you're doing them a much bigger favour than they'll know or be able to appreciate until they're back on track.

 

[/responsible parent mode]

[former complete juvenile delinquent mode]

 

Speaking as someone who went to school drunk, stoned and armed more times than I can possibly remember, I do have to say that I was a much bigger threat to myself than anyone else. I never hurt anyone, and even with the idiotic teenage gang stuff I was involved with, there was never any outright violence. High school is all about bluster and bluffing. Far more often than not, if you call someone on their threats and say something like, "Yeah, I told them you were snorting Drano in the bathroom during math class. So? What are you going to do about it?" they'll stand there not knowing what to do. Making threats is easy; carrying them out if a whole different kettle of fish entirely. Besides, anyone who goes to high school wasted probably has a lot more pressing things to worry about than a snitching classmate.

 

[/former complete juvenile delinquent mode]

[totally-inappropriate-for-a-family-forum storyteller mode]

 

Okay. In lieu of the funny/sexy story that Darth_Ave never got around to telling, here's a funny little incident that happened to me the other week. I'm posting it here because it'd probably get deleted if I put it anywhere else.

 

Now, a few of you know me from various other parts of LF and might know a bit about me but for those who don't, I recently moved back to Canada from Ireland about a month and a half ago. My wife and my teenage daughter are still in Ireland, and I came back first to set up car, house, job, etc in preparation for their arrival. Since I've been back, I've been staying with my parents (which in itself could be the subject of several pages of ranting) and saving up the cash for the movers and furniture and other assorted household knick-knacks we'll be needing, and towards this I work nights during the week. Yes, this shift sucks a fair amount of ass, but the money's good and the company's very professional.

 

Okay. So after I get back working, it doesn't take me too long to become a regular at a couple of the neighborhood bars. Since being back, I've been meeting up with old friends, making new ones, and basically enjoying reestablishing my life and social circles in Canada. One minor problem arises however. My wife is still in Ireland. Guess what that means. Yup. No...shall we say, marital relations. None. For a month and a half now. And a couple of months to go. Now, I've done the whole dateless, single, not-getting-laid thing, and I didn't like it the first time. That's why I got married. Now, when you're used to frequent...ahem, marital relations, going without for long stretches makes you rather tense. Not to mention vulnerable to hottie waitresses. Now, I will say in total truthfulness, I have never cheated on my wife. However. In the course of making new friends, one of the afore-mentioned hottie waitresses and I get to chatting soon after my arrival. She's a very outgoing sort, and over the next several weeks chatty leads to friendly, friendly leads to flirty, flirty leads to innocently cuddly, innocently cuddly leads to not-quite-so-innocently cuddly, and this final stage leads to a completely sloshed Mace MacLeod staggering back home at 2am one night after all the blood has been diverted from his brain to regions rather lower. No damage done though; marital vows still intact, guilt factor minimal. But danger is clearly on the horizon.

 

Next afternoon. I don't do mornings (working till 2am during the week), so it's afternoon. I'm sitting down with my mom and dad at the kitchen table and we're all eating lunch. Well, they're eating lunch, I'm guzzling Coke and waiting for the Tylenols to kick in. My coat from the previous evening is still on the back of my chair, and as I get up to put it away, I discover my brand-new cellphone has been shut off. Hmm. I put the coat away and sit back down, turning my phone on the check the messages. Before my finger touches the button, the most noteworthy thing going on is the glob of mustard that's been stuck to my dad's cheek for the last five solid minutes. Then I turn the phone on. Do I have messages? Oh boy, do I ever. The thing is, I just bought the damn phone and I'm still trying to figure out how everything works. Like, for example, how to turn off the message alert function, which has decided to announce every single message I've got with a loud obnoxious noise.

 

*BEEP* "Huh? Oh, it's...uh...a friend of mine from the bar. No no, the message came in last night." (message one: Hottie Waitress standing fully clothed in her bedroom, taking pictures on her camera phone)

*BEEP* "Uh...no, no, I'm looking for the submenu which turns that off...what? No, I haven't talked to (Mrs MacLeod) yet this week..." (message two: Waitress is no longer fully clothed; shirt is now on floor)

*BEEP* Mace is trying to remain nonchalant while parents munch away on their sandwiches "What? No, that's...uh...a guy I work with. We're planning on heading to (sports bar) to watch the Canucks game tonight." (message three: bra has joined shirt, Mace's blood starts making plans to head south)

*BEEP* Mace is now regretting wearing a bathrobe downstairs "Erm...uh...no no no, I don't need any help with my phone. Yeah it's annoying me too..." (message four: articles of clothing are now few and far between on Hottie Waitress)

*BEEP* ...

 

I think you can see where this is going. After the sixth or seventh, it was getting harder and harder to ignore so I turned the phone off. It would've been kind of awkward to explain to my parents why a woman who's very obviously not their daughter-in-law is doing a striptease act on my cellphone.

 

18 pictures. Now scrubbed from my phone.

 

and burned onto a dvd with a musical score. Shh.

 

[/totally-inappropriate-for-a-family-forum storyteller mode]

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