I don’t know why exactly I remembered this, but I was thinking back on all of the stupid shit we (my loser friends and I) did in high school and trying to figure out what the dumbest thing I ever did was… other than maybe taking 1 1/2 hour lunches for an entire semester (i.e. skipping Phy Ed and Health, therefore failing them and having to use my electives to take them the next year).
Thanks to my Bon Jovi hair and heavy metal flare on my KISS jean jacket, I was quite the ladies man back in 10th grade (ha ha!).. I would often receive notes from admirers – some anonymous, and some that I wish had remained anonymous. For those of you young pups reading this, before the age of email and cell phones, people would communicate with utensils called pen and paper. They would write their messages on the paper with the pen, fold it into a square or triangle, and then hand it off themselves, through a friend of theirs in your class, or slip it in your locker.
One particular subject who we referred to as “Rhombus” was very persistent with giving me notes. One day I received a note from her and it contained language which was of a romantic nature. Rhombus was in constant denial that her feelings for me were far from mutual.
I showed this note to my friend Tom and we laughed. We happened to be entering the lavatory with this note and it was empty (I’m guessing due to the fact that we were cutting class). Empty lavatory + love letter from Rhombus = recipe for fun. Tom produced a Bic lighter from his pocket and ignited the love letter as a token of his sympathy for me. The letter proved to be rather flammable – within seconds, the flames had eaten most of it and were fast approaching Tom’s fingers.
Thankfully we were standing right next to the wall urinals which always contained a hearty supply of fresh water in the bowls, and Tom threw the burning testimonial of Rhombus’ love for me into the water to extinguish it. The entire boys room was filled with smoke and there were still a few smoldering embers in the terlit. We wanted to ensure the safety of our fellow students and Park faculty, so we did what any responsible young men would do who set one-way love letters afire and throw them into wall urinals: we each peed on it. This thankfully managed to adequately douse the embers, leaving a mushy pile of smoldering black soot in the base of the once tidy, clean wall urinal.
Good times, good times. And perhaps there was some sort of unintentional witchcraft involved in this procedure, as I never received a love letter from Rhombus again.
This is just one of several stupid things I did in high school and we definitely had commited worse crimes, but for some reason this one sticks out the most. Now that I think about it, maybe I’ll try this with any bills I get in the mail and see if bill collectors leave me alone after the burning/peeing ritual like Rhombus did.
That would be awesome.
