orange glad



Hey, remember that time that guy kept calling you? That guy who brought me and my friends drinks when we ran into you at the Gold Star that one time? Cause he wanted to impress you? And one night he called you and said he was stopping by and you told him not to? But he said he didn't care and he was coming over anyway. I remember you said you were so pissed you sat at your second floor window and waited for him. And when you saw him outside walking up to your door you opened the window and hit him with an orange you had been holding. "What the fuck???" he yelled and left, calling you crazy. Ha, what a dork. Sometimes I wonder what he's up to. Do you think he ever thinks about me? Do you think he thinks about you when he peels an orange? Do you have an orange? I'd like an orange. Hey! I'm coming over! Throw an orange at me. I wish you had said something corny out the window like "orange you glad you came?" after you hit him. That's the punch line. He's the punch line. Seriously, I wonder what he's doing now. I like knowing stuff like that about people I've only met once. I'd ask him to join Friendster and he'd be like, "andrew who?" and I'd tell him, "Remember that time my friend threw that orange at you? What have you been up to?" Me and Pam always talk about people we worked with and if we know what they are doing. People we hated, people whose bangs started on top of their skulls and wore kids sweaters, ones who told us stories about their marching band history, people who muttered things while writing in their notebooks. I wish there was a VH1 special on everyone I ever worked with or met. Is that weird? I'm curious about people. And did that guy eat the orange or did he leave it? I forgot to ask you that.

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