Artificially Flavored

Mom: I already enrolled you in school, so you don't have to worry about that. You should have come, it was really nice. Remember how crowed the lines were freshman year? Well most of those people dropped out of school so there's only a few people in line.

Me: Oh, well that's good.
Mom: "I saw some of your friends there, the coerced me into buying one of those little art books. They said 'I know he'll want one.' Also have you taken your school photo yet for the year book?"
Me: No I don't so.
Mom: Well I told you yesterday that today was the last day, you better go now unless you want one of those no photo available signs.
Me: Ok, I'm gonna take a shower first.
Mom: You can't, there's only an hour left before they close; and this is the day the freshmen come on. If you wouldn't spend all day lying around this wouldn't happen.
Me: *Gets in the car and sniffs under his arm just checking*

I drove by Taco Bell by the way and the thought of lunch lured me there like a siren's song. I was only 15 minutes from school and since all my other enrollment stuff had been taken care of I could probably skip the line and go straight to the photographer, so I deemed it safe to stop for food. I got a chicken quesadilla and ate it on the way while I drove. Bad idea. Those things are messier than they look. I ripped off a piece and accidentally got grilled chicken as well as "THREE DIFFERENT KINDS OF CHEESES!" all over my shirt. But, got to school in time and I bypassed most of the enrollment process without anyone yelling at me for cutting. I just turned my shirt inside out after cleaning most of it off, you could hardly tell. Worked out fine I thought until, well you know those times when you're stuck in line or on an elevator with someone you really don't want to talk to? It's like should I pretend I like this guy or just stand awkwardly quiet. The first and last time we met Brendan, he and I were in a car going to McDonalds. He said something really offensive and I opted for the awkward lull.

Mete: *skips the entire line and goes to the photography area and stands behind me*
Me: . . . . .
Mete: . . . .
Me: *glances briefly over to see if he is who I thought he was. He is. turns back quickly*
Mete: So, hows your summer?
Me: Good. Yours?
Mete: Okay, boring though. You work?
Me: Yeah at Best Buy.
Mete: How much time do you spend there?
Me: Maybe 5 hours a week
Mete: Really?!
Me: Why? Does that sound like a lot or a little?
Mete: Little. Sometimes I work 50 hours a week. I'm a lifeguard *points at his tan* (I had noticed though. The guy looks like Achilles buff. Bronze. Shiny too. Actually more like the Oscar award)
Me: Save anyone yet?
Mete: No, not yet.
Photographer: Good boy! You smiled *laughs* that's one out twenty.
Lil' fat kid: okay.
LFK's Mother: *pushes him foreword and takes out schedule* Now lets find a good time to schedule your birthday party.
Mete: *looks over his shoulder* Did someone say party....*sniffs* you smell Mexican food?
Me: No. *sits down in chair*
Photographer: "Now say cheese! Aw come on smile, I can get the puppet."

She got one out of twenty-one to grin like a moron. Not that I don't like to smile but I prefer it be captured not posed. It just seems wrong, like fluorescent lighting. All the really old photographs you see never have people smiling in them, they looked so beautiful and stoic. Timeless. Getting your picture taken was a once in a life time opportunity. Now it seems cheesiness is the style. If she wanted a smile she should have told me a joke....or showed me her boobs. Either one.