Moron Story #274

I still sort of feel like trash. I find myself disappointed with more and more things here on the island. Like trash. Today I saw a guy in the car in front of me throw some trash out of his car. And not like bio-degradable trash but a plastic bottle. Has anyone informed this person that it takes like 80 years for plastic to degrade. For a brief moment I thought about stopping traffic, picking up the bottle and racing after the guy just to throw it back at him. But then I looked around and it seems like everyone else trashes this island too. In some ways I look forward to leaving the island next June. There are some things about the island that are embarrassing. Like the trash that is EVERYWHERE. People just don't seem to care. Or the rampant government corruption and mismanagement. There are too many examples of people on the island basically stealing money. Dept of ed FIFA and the FAA is a huge joke. I'm tired of dealing with racism. Samoan can be pretty racist, especially against Asians. (Interesting seeing as how they check the same "Race" box on government forms) There are some parts of the culture that are great. But there are some glaring flaws as well.

Time for a dumb story. I call this one the complete botch.

So when I was about 9 or so one of my best friends was David Hayes. David lived in North Augusta before I did. In fact David would tell you he lived in Belvadere not the NA. But anyways, David had some cool stuff. Like they had a pool. We had a murky pond that other people made fun of us for swimming in. But David had something else that I did not have; a hot older sister. Whitney H7ayes. ( I put a 7 in there in case she googles herself and this showed up).

Anyways, Whitney was something else. She had long dark hair and deep brown eyes. It was magical. Whitney also came to camp one year. At camp there is this Friday dinner. Now its not official or anything but still the pressure is on for guys to bring a girl to the Friday dinner. The previous year I took some girl from Aiken. But this year my sights were set on Whitney Hayes.

Being the 9 year-old version of Paul "The Moron" Murphy I didn't actually have the gumption to ask her myself. I think some older girls had to intervene for me. But sure enough Whitney agreed to go to Friday dinner with your's truly. By the way Whitney was like 11. So I had it made, all I had to do was wait till Friday and reap the rewards of being good looking. Until Wednesday night.

Wednesday night, at least I think it was Wednesday. We were suppose to follow our group of campers around camp to different "stations." One of those stations was Robert Wagner, prbly Mike Polutta, and maybe someone else (Zule?). They were getting ready to put on a show. I took my seat by myself in the middle of a row of fold-out chairs. Unfortunately the show didn't start when I sat down. Also unfortunately Whitney Hayes decided to sit behind me. Most people would think "great a chance to talk to her about what we're going to wear or something." Not me. I panicked. I don't think I ever had to talk to a girl who I was having dinner with in a few nights. I was scared. I didn't know what to do. Here's a beautiful girl trying to talk to me. Oh snap.

Whitney repeatedly tried to get my attention, tapping me on the shoulder, and getting a friend to intervene, but to no avail. See Paul Murphy was a moron back then too and ignored her. That was probably one of the worst memories I have. 14 years later I can still remember the smell of the dining hall, the arrangement of chairs, the "Dead Puppies," and worst "Six Feet Under," a song about a dude burying his wife or something. Whitney and I never really talked again after that. Needless to say, she decided not to go to Friday night dinner with me. In fact Whitney and I never really talked after that.

I think I had a conversation with her when I was like 14 at an area-wide thing. But what was worse is that a few years later we moved to North Augusta and I started going to North Augusta Middle, the same school as Whitney. Still feeling like a complete idiot I saw Whitney almost every day in the hallway. In fact I use to take a detour just because I knew where her locker was and wanted to see if she was there. But everyday I had the glaring reminder of my one chance with Whitney and how I completely botched it. Then "The Lion King" came out and the monkey told me that the past hurts but we have to learn from it. Thanks wise monkey, I won't ever mess that up again. I still think about how things might be different if I hadn't messed up that night.

Paul "hall stalker" Murphy