Yogurt.....land?

Do you see this picture? I look relatively happy, right? Calm? At peace? Not like I was just accosted?

Well. I did do a little acting in high school.

Here's a story. Last night, it was a rainy evening. All the lights in our apartment were turned out, my roommate Kelsey and I were swamped with homeworks in our room, and the only sounds permeating through the place were blood curdling screams of my roommates and also from the girl in the horror movie they were watching. It was also pouuurrrring rain outside. So, as you can imagine, when a trip to Yogurtland was proposed, we all girded up our fat pants and got on that train of thought. (I realize that pajamas is a nicer word, but. We're cute.)

First of all, Kelsey rapped, and it was one of the best things I've seen. Second of all, WHY did everyone in Provo get ready like it was school picture day when.. in reality, it was nine forty-five at Yogurtland? People, people, pleeeease. By the looks we were getting, you'd think I was lunging forth and mooning people with every step. And can I be honest? When I'm given looks like that, I only want to rise to the occasion. My pants stayed on, mom. Anyway, we finally shuffled our way into the line, and all the fro-yo people - packed in there like SARDINES - abandon staring at us for the more appealing option of looking over us and around us like we don't exist. And frankly like they might have smelled a little bit of dookie.

Anyway. We were in line, when some man came surging from a nook I had not even noticed. And he's walking straight at me. And I move to get out of the way? And we're in that awkward dance, you know? But the thing is, he's not trying to get past me. He's trying to stay in front of me. So I finally stop and he just stares intently at my chest. Nope, this is real. I don't mean to be vulgar, but let's be honest here. I could be mistaken for your junior high boys' basketball team CAPTAIN with the body I have. If he wanted to stare, there are other areas and other women rrrreadily available, know what I'm sayin'?

I'm stunned. I don't know what to do. My roommates have all frozen as well. I feel like we're in Harry Potter, and we're mid-apparate. Finally, he speaks.

Him: "Oh, you went to Mountain Land Physical Therapy?!!!!" (He is so thrilled about this.)

Me: (trying to muster up anything that feels like a social skill or even hobby) "Um. No, but people in my family!"

Him: "Awwwwwwwhhughhhuhhhfhhahaaahhhuhhh!!" (you'd be surprised how long it lasted and how many letters he got in there. It was INCRED!) "....My dad works there."

Me: (an unhelpful smile of astonishment, not that he saw it, buried as he was in my chest)

Him: (nods excitedly to self) "Wellllll. All right!" (Strides away with a step so big you could've seen it on a Sneetch illustration, and pats my back like A) we went to war together or B) like I'm his ungainly aunt from out of town or C) he could be telling me man up and.. grow a pair? Then.... he gives it some sort of finger tip rub as he leaves. And then he's GONE.)

Um, okay. We were stunned. Kelsey told me I had bad social skills, but my other roommate defended me. How do you interact when your head is clearly a foot higher than where someone is speaking to you? How do interact when you're flat chested and you know and someone is giving off the vibe like they are gonna keep watch until those things APPEAR? A watched pot never boils, sir. A watched pot, never, boils.

I posted this picture also to display the fact that I'm the man in our friendship. Not everyone can have the self-esteem boost that comes with having a roommate THREE TIMES YOUR SIZE, Kelsey. She needs about twenty more of those yogurts. But. She feels dainty and like a lady erryday. That's just a little gift that comes in the Shelby package.