There I was, just an ordinary kid, on the precipice of the most important night of my life: the fifth-grade dance. If I had learned anything from watching hours of “Saved By The Bell” every morning before school, it was that true love is born at school dances.
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Desperately desiring a girlfriend, I knew I needed to enhance my appearance for this night. This was my first school dance. It had to be perfect.
I picked out a snazzy shirt from my closet. I doused myself in drug-store cologne. I slicked my hair back and sprayed it down until it was brittle.
I looked good.
My best friend and I gave each other pep talks in the car on the way to the dance. I arrived with confidence, ready to find true love and dance the night away.
Instead, I spent the night stuffing my face with cookies and candy bars, standing scared against the wall for two straight hours. Continue reading
POP GOD 