Thursday, May 2, 2013

Thursday Tales: An Accidental Conversation with the Bad Boy

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"Are you ready yet??"

I smacked my lips at the mirror, smoothed my hair one last time, and ran down to the car. "Let's go!" 

My friend, Emily, was dragging me to a concert of her favorite music, some boyband by the name of Celtic Thunder. She was always going on and on about how great they were. In an effort designed purely so she'd stop hassling me, I had agreed to go with her... just one time!


HeritageI had to admit that it wasn't awful -- better than I expected. The music was good, the singers were handsome. There were worse ways to spend an evening, for sure. I couldn't really decide which of the vocalists was my favorite... there was the tall bald guy with a Scottish accent, the cute teenager, the blond surfer, the romantic classical guy, and the dark-haired rogue. A role for every taste, I suppose.

As they gave their final bows, we clapped enthusiastically. Emily said that she wanted to get one more thing from the merchandise tables, so I told her to go ahead and that I'd meet her back at the car. Not wanting to stand in the long line to get out the main doors, I wandered out another one that no one seemed to notice at the base of the stage. 

I somehow found myself in some hollow hallways. I wasn't really sure where I was or how to get back to the car. But I wandered around a bit, trying to find a door that would lead to outside. As I approached a corner, I heard an accented voice talking to... nothing. 

"But Mum!"  A pause. "Yes... yes... " He must be on the telephone. "I just don't see why I have to--" Peering around the corner, I saw a form leaning against the wall, faced away from me. He was wearing.... a dark grey kilt, a microphone headset still attached to his ear... He must be one of the singers in the show.

"But it's not fair!" he continued. "I know." He sighed sadly. "I'll talk to you soon. Take care." He snapped his phone closed and banged his fist into the wall he was propped against. Sliding down into a sitting position, he muttered dejectedly to himself, looking the picture of pathetic. 

Celtic ThunderI knew I probably wasn't supposed to be there, but I couldn't help trying to comfort the poor guy. I cleared my throat "Excuse me, are you alright?" 

His head snapped up quickly and he frowned. It was the one who'd played the bad boy-- I think they called him the Dark Destroyer. "I didn't know anyone else was here... what ARE you doing here?"

"I'm just lost," I shrugged. "But you seem troubled. Can I help with anything?"


"It's my mum," he began. I sat down next to him on the floor to save him from having to crane his neck up as we spoke. "She's making me-- She said--" He took a deep breath and spoke quickly to get it out as painlessly as possible. "She's making me sell my STORM TROOPERS!" 

I raised an eyebrow. "The... toys?"

"They aren't toys. My STORM TROOPERS. She's making me sell my STORM TROOPERS. Something about me leaving them all over the backyard again."

I peered at him, thinking that this bad boy was perhaps not quite so bad. I took a breath to speak and stopped. What do you say to that? "I-- I'm sorry? That sounds... awful." Was he 12?

"I. KNOW!" he ranted.

"Well... aren't they YOUR storm troopers?" I reasoned. "And you seem to be of an age that you could just decide... NOT... to sell them if you really didn't want to?"

"You don't understand... she said I'd have to start walking my OWN dog if I didn't!" 


I smiled and joked, "And cook your own breakfasts, no doubt?" 

"YES! Exactly!!! How did you know?" he inquired seriously. I tried not to roll my eyes.

A door down the hallway opened suddenly and a woman came toward us. "Ryan! What are you doing down here?" She stopped as she noticed his dejected expression and looked at me "Who are you and what have you done to him?"

"Don't look at me, lady. I'm just lost. His mom told him he has to sell his storm troopers. Apparently this is a travesty?"

"Oh hell," she swore softly. "Now there'll be no living with him." She pointed to a door at the other end of the hallway. "You want to go that way." 

Bemused, I followed her directions and made my way back to Emily's car. "You are never going to believe what I just saw," I told her. "Not in a million years."

5 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. I remember having read this before, but it made me laugh just as hard this time! My son had to come home and clean his SW "toys" out of my attic when we moved.....it was indeed a sad day! ;)

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  2. Hahahahahahahaa... Awwww, the poor kid :D

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  3. Ha! Those Star Wars people. Thanks for the smile :)

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  4. Thanks everybody!! lol

    Jeanne, that cracks me up... more truth than fiction! ;)

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