I’m sitting at a refurnished rotund table in the middle of the Grand County library. I know that’s not a catchy way to start a blog post, but hey, you can’t win ‘em all the time. I’m sitting here alone, by myself, isolated, the way I usually sit when I’m on the road. No worries though, I’m used to this solitary lifestyle by now.
You’ve heard me talk about people watching in the past. I have mocked a trio of mothers whose fashion was spawned by the 1930’s. I have mentally argued with a plastered cowboy donning a ten-gallon hat. I have laughed at the angelic grandmother who beats me at cards in a devilish way. But I think I have a one-upper to all of those folks as a young kid has just sat down at the desk in front of me.
For full effect, download “Clones (We’re All)” by Alice Cooper, and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.
Seated before me is an average-sized, average-looking chap wearing a blue striped shirt, modestly fitting jeans, and a hybrid pair of cross country/mountain climbing boots. He has light brown hair that has a uniform part down the right side of his head, both sides brushed evenly. Every couple of minutes he randomly blurts out pre-pubescent phrases to his friend next to him in a sarcastic tone meanwhile his face is glued to the computer monitor in front of him with fantasy world graphics donning the screen. This kid looks really familiar, almost like I’ve seen him before or something, or maybe this kid is…is me?
No way, I must need some more sleep if I’m looking at what appears to be an actual replica of who and what I was 15 years ago. But wait, he has a cowlick on the back of his head, so do I. He just made a jokingly rude comment to the girl on the other side of the table, I do that too. He just picked his nose and then looked around to see if anyone was going to watch him eat his booger! Ok, maybe I didn’t do that, but this kid looks like, sounds like, and acts like me! Me when I was 11 years old.
Sorry, I lost focus there, some random hippy with a shaved head plus a snow-white braid poking out of the back of his noggin, a braid that matched his scraggly beard just walked by in a Hawaiian nightgown. You could smell him for miles. For some reason he gave me a stare down as he rambled on through the hallway. I may have that disturbing image glaring at me when I crawl into bed tonight.
Back to my clone. Across the table, the young girl who is surrounded by what we would call “nerds” makes a proclamation that she is having difficulties on her homework, and if any of them knew how to help her. Rather than come to her aid, my clone mutters another sarcastically rude remark across the table at her, voice cracking and all. You see back in the day, and even recently I thought that semi-humorous, semi-arrogant comments would get you the ladies. Turns out I was wrong. And still am wrong.
The redheaded girl is gingerly attracting these boys’ attention due to the fact that she is all dressed up. It’s at this stage in life when the all the other boys at the table realized that the female gender did not actually have cooties, and therefore “crushes” began to be developed. Not me though, and not my clone, he puts his headphones on and starts bouncing to what probably is a semi-techno cartoon beat. Yeah, so, I liked that kind of music. Don’t be hatin’.
While the other boys romance the ginger, he continuously blurts out non-amusing ridiculously stupid statements in hopes of getting everyone else’s attention. Man this kid won’t shut up. Almost like he’s a combination of Carrot Top, Jack Black, and Jim Carrey. A concoction like that would make any comedian shudder in disgust. But hey, that was me! I was that disgusting concoction!
This kid is elbow-deep in his online game, which is probably a cover for the fact that he’s going to slink away and find old copies of “The Babysitters Club” series and read them in the girl’s bathroom. There, I admitted it, finally got that off my chest. He sits there muttering out random comments to himself about how smart he is. Dang, he has an ego. But wait, so did I. I guess I still do for all that matters. And as I sit here typing away on my MacBook, semi-eerily watching this kids movements, nonverbal actions, and random statements that pop out of his mouth every two or so minutes, I get somewhat creeped out at who I was, and who I’ve become.
The funny part is that this kid has no idea, and will never know about this blogpost. He is off in his own little world mumbling words that don’t even make sense yet aren’t even funny, and he has no clue that I devoted an entire hour and a half of my life typing away at who I think is my mini-me. An interesting point of view if you ask me. But then again for all I know, the funky-haircutted Hawaiian nightgown who walked by may have given me the stare down because he saw what was him, 40 years earlier.
This town is starting to give me the creeps. Cross your fingers that I don’t turn into a hippy.