Pizza, Bros, and Burned Hair

Now, to explain what happens in the next few posts, I must introduce a new character in this narrative. Landon is probably the closest thing I have ever had to a bro. We were both home-schooled as kids and were the only two guys around the same age in our home-school group, so we became friends fairly quickly despite the fact we were very different. For instance: he loves Country music while I want to shoot every Country star in the face so that we can be rid of the curse. He loves fishing and a bunch of other outdoorsy stuff while I laugh at people like that from my comfortable couch. But we became friends all the same. Possibly it was our mutual love of the guitar and writing music? Who knows. At any rate we were pretty good bros.

     We had a lot of good times as kids, like one time when we were coming back from a home-school field trip (yes home-schoolers have those) when our parents decided to stop for pizza. I was sitting across the booth from Landon and I decided I was going to pull a little practical joke. Every time he looked away, I scooted the table a little bit closer to his side of the booth. Luckily the waitress kept walking by, so he looked away from the table quite often. In the span of about five minutes the table was so close to him that I thought he had to notice, but he hadn't. I knew if I moved it again he'd notice because the table would touch him, so I decided to make the last push count. I grabbed the table with both hands and waited for him to look away. The first chance I got, I sent the table swiftly into his gut. As I heard the "Ooof!" from the other end of the table, I started laughing really hard. I began to stand up and that's when the really funny part of this story happens. What I didn't realize was that every time I scooted the table, I scooted too. I had moved forward just as much as the table had. Another thing I didn't realize was that I was now sitting directly under the low hanging light. As I stood up my head went crashing into the light. There was a loud shattering sound and soon the pizza place was filled with the smell of burned hair. Now it was his turn to laugh hysterically. Keep this story in the back of your mind, because I will reference it a few more times in the coming weeks.

     Fast forward to the year 2011. Landon and I are goofing off at the December home-school field trip. His mom walks up and says, "Hey, Landon. Don't forget to call your girlfriend when we get home."

     "Ooooooooo," I said, "You have a gurlfreend." I then punched him in the shoulder.

     "Oh, shut up." He said.

     "Seriously, what her name? More importantly, is she hot?"

     "You wouldn't know her." He said.

     "Okay, good. So you can tell me?"

     "No!" He said laughing.

     "Okay, okay." I surrendered, "But know this, I will find out who she is, and I will mock you for it."

     And find out who she was, I did. And the answer. . . the answer I didn't like.