Minnow Ch. 01

Minnow 01

I mean, I've always been on the smaller size and I'm not a big fan of natural water that's more than ankles deep, so, somewhere along the lines I picked up the nickname of Minnow and then I may have solidified that in concrete during the last semester of school when I thought a low lighted silvery frosted blend in my water fall swash swept back hair was a good idea.

It was a good idea and I enjoyed the attention.

Until Skip Day when I found myself being eyed up like I was on the Fish Fry Friday menu. But I managed to allude a few hooks and worms, so it wasn't that bad. Well, I mean, I mostly managed to allude a few hooks and worms anyways, but it was just a make out sesh down at the rock quarry and only because this guy named Dexter wanted to apologize to me for slapping my school books out of my hands so many times and that's all I have to say about Dexter since that was (counts in head, last June, eleven) since that was eleven months ago.

But getting back to the future, which is like (counts in head, oh, now) like now, I actually don't wear my hair like that anymore and as my future friends, you can refer to me as Minnow since people have been referring to me as that since (counts in head, grade school, middle school, high school, one year later, like forever), since that's what people have called me since like forever ago.

And we will be friends. I'm not very confrontational and I know when to stand close by and when to shuffle to the side. I mean, I understand how things work, right? Besides, my super high cheek bones are going to drive you crazy anyways, so, drop me a DM on my Chang page and let's see how close we live to each other.

And come visit with me since you'll find out later in my story that driving isn't my best suit. I mean, Salmon can swim upstream with almost ease, but minnows, not so much, but that's a side issue.

Anyways, the stroke of midnight for my 19th was (counts in head, February, March, April, May, four) was just about four months ago and that was a bigger deal then turning 18. I mean, not by much since so many things require the stroke of midnight for someone's 21st, but I've managed to spend my time enhancing my skills and actually getting out every couple of weekends.

My hair is no longer swept back and it's more of a face surrounding "bob" cut, but I never really figured out why they call it a "bob" cut anyways and I only know one (counts in head, Bob Billings, Bob??, nope, one) only one guy named Bob and his hair is, um, weird, but I have little room to talk about weird. But it is form fitted around my head and my face like someone dumped a pail of water on the top of my head, but without the flattening factor. You'll be okay with it, I promise. And it's dark.

Now, before I continue on, there is one thing I would like to address and this is in advance of a segment or two below in my story as I ramble on. Traits. Whether one is a Tranny, a Trap, in Transition, a CD, a weirdo or just a queer, we all have traits that never seem to get talked about much. Traits like how we remember birthdays, while regular guys remember what color our vehicles are. Who are the same guys who remember the size of our tires, while we remember the size of our female friend's booty shorts. You know, traits like that. Anyways, details on how my trait of tracking birthdays are to follow. But it's important to my story when the LP squad enters my story.

So, I'm not a regular, regular on the Middleton Strip, but I do hang out there sometimes and I started to do that like every other Friday night since (counts backwards in head, May, April, March, February, four) since about the last four months now since I turned 19 and I've found it to be mostly a good experience. That might be because some people just don't have it in them to squish a poor little minnow like me, but either way, things on the Strip have worked out for me. And I say that still knowing that there are (counts in head, Bruno, Gino, Dexter, three) there are still three guys that I avoid at all costs along the Strip, but I might be wearing them down.

LOL, I'm so not even close to wearing them down, but they won't hurt me, so. And Dexter should just lighten up a little bit. I mean, he wouldn't agree, but I'm actually a good match for him. Well, he agreed with that when we "argued" on Skip Day when we had a secret make out sesh about how he used to slap my books out of my hands in hallway, but then things went back to "argh, argh, argh, I cut wooden wall studs with my macho teeth instead of a saw, argh, argh, argh" mode.

But as I just said (counts in head, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, seven) as I just said seven paragraphs above, I'm not very confrontational, so, whatever. But he could have possibly fish hooked me in the mouth with his worm and reeled in his macho man pleasure, but whatever. The end.

Anyways, when I do go out, I'm not to flashy or over exposed, but I like to make my statement. And don't worry, my quick reference just above about booty shorts does not apply to me. That hint was for the upcoming segment about the LP squad, who are my female friends, but that adventure comes a little later, since I'm still working on my recent adventure, if adventure is the correct word, which it probably isn't the right word, but I don't know how to say that I recently got into another argument with a knucklehead and I don't even know who won the argument. I mean, he won something, I mean, if that actually ever happened, but as for the actual argument, I mean, I just don't know. But I know he's a certified knucklehead.

And before you go counting up my "arguments" in your head, my argument with Dexter, which was only half of he should have argued for, was (counting in head, last June, eleven) that was eleven months and my next argument with the knucklehead was (counting in head, May, April, March, three) was about three months ago, with my point being that I don't just prance around arguing with people. Much.

Also, I prance fairly well. I'm light on my feet, so.

So, here's how our argument came about. And this is where my trait of remembering and tracking the stroke of midnight birthdays comes into play.

Since I had become familiar with life on the Strip, I came up with a plan for a quick, a quick, mind you, group birthday celebration for my LP friends since in the last (counts in head, three weeks ago, two weeks ago, this week, three) in the last three weeks, my friends, the Lolli Pop squad, officially became the ex-Lolli Pop squad by all them peck kissing their 18th on their respective strokes of midnight. And what better way to celebrate your 18th than with an ice-cold Whipped Swirl, right? Which, wow, totally sounds lame as hell, but 18 is not 21, so, it's what was available, so. And the Whipped Swirls from the Whipped Swirl Shop on the Strip are quite a tasty treat, so, that was my plan.

Zap the ex-Lolli Pop gals into my SUV, zip down to the Strip, whip my SUV into a parking spot on the Strip, sip some whip ass tasty Whipped Swirls and zoom back home. Ah, the best laid plans of mice and Traps, right?

Anyways, while I finish jazzing up my super high cheek bones at my makeup vanity table so I can take a couple of cruises up and down the Strip to scope out the difference between the Whipped Swirl Shop vs the Swirly Whip Shop along the Strip for my planned group birthday party soon, let me take you back in time a little bit like (counts in head, May, April, March, three), like three months back in time to explain the argument I became involved with a knucklehead. Well, the knucklehead.

Not that the knucklehead interrupted my life or turned it upside down or even inside out since I only knew the knucklehead this much [shows a finger pinch] before. Well, maybe it was a little more like this [opens the finger pinch up a bit] afterwards, but I'm not admitting anything.

And before you side with the knucklehead, one of us seduced the other one the weekend before this past St. Patty's Day and that was (counts in head, March, April, May, three) that was three months ago and not one phone call or text since! And then, well, to show up at my place un-announced (counts in head, March, April, May, three) three months after we fell over the edge, well, that knucklehead has some nerve!

[Turning the clock back, May, April, March, three months ago to March]

And don't fall for any of his Knuckleheaded tricks people. And it all started when I was helping out another friend, Randy, spread the word up and down the Strip about his upcoming St. Patty's Day with the people. Which is code for I was innocent then as I was just the messenger and I'm still innocent (counts in head, March, April, May, three) three months later. Which, of course, is code for Seth is a knucklehead.

[Turning the clock back, May, April, March, three months ago to March. Wait, I already did that]

Sorry, I'm on a program now and I get fuzzy about things. Sometimes.

[The side door opens slowly after some knucklehead was knocking on it]

"Oh, it's you, what are you doing here at my place then, Seth, hmm? And include how you figured out where I lived, so?"

"Minnow, I mean, I was just over at Randy's St. Patty's Day party and I thought that I might see you there and then I didn't see you there, so, um, that Darla girl told me where you lived and since it was so close by and all, I mean, I thought I might stop by and say "hey" or something, so, um, hey, Minnow, what's up, huh?"

[The knucklehead seems to be waiting on an invite to enter the house]

"Oh, I was invited to Randy's St. Patty's Day party alright since we went to school together and I was even there earlier in the day to help spike the freeze pops and since I went to school with Randy, I was invited and I was there for a minute and then I wasn't there, so?"

"Oh, it's a small world then, Minnow because I didn't go to school with Randy, but I do work with him down at the factory, so?"

"Oh, I already know all about that, Seth, since I put the thumbscrews pressure on Randy to obtain some information about the guy who didn't understand my personal space on the Strip last weekend when I was out passing the word about Randy's green infused party and I managed to press him for all that intel all without letting him know that it was his co-worker who had a hard time keeping his distance from me, so?"

"I mean, then why did Randy ask me if I got lucky with you then, huh, Minnow?"

"You SOB, did you tell Randy that we argued for ten minutes in the Elm Street alley access walkway, Seth, hmm?"

"Well, hold on, Minnow, I didn't define how we argued. He went all "tee he" by himself, so?"

Hah, right? It's the only time that knuckleheaded guys talk, right? When they can go all "tee he" and stuff, right? All without a phone call or a text in those (counts in head, March, April, May, three), in all of those lost three months on the calendar.

"Well, none of that matters now, Seth, because all of that was then and this is now and all that was like literally (counts in head, March, April, May, three), like three months ago anyways, so?"

"Oh, Minnow, I think you mean it's been about three months of unfinished business!"

Hah, again! Unfinished business, my butt! Which is where I'm pretty sure that he wanted to finish his business, but he never called or texted me in literally (counts in head, March, April, May, three), in like literally over three months!

And he finished anyways in the alley access walkway, I mean, not in the "all the way" way, but our argument became quite the moment and it seemed to be the thing to do in the dark little alley access walkways anyways. And by the way, well, I'm not sure who started it, but I'm not ashamed that he got to finish. Well, my performance was probably shameful, but it was my (second) first time, so.

"Hah, Seth, we finished our unfinished business last time and I'm not arguing with you anymore about that today, so, just forget about it because I have a (counts in head, a girlfriend, a boyfriend, a side slam, three) because I have like three relationships currently underway and all that includes me having a girlfriend now and a boyfriend now and a side slam now, so? Well, I guess I'm the side slam, but I'm a damn shark in the bed!"

I so did not have a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. And I'm not even sure what a side slam is, but my one neighbor lady mumbles about her side slams all the time, so, it must be a thing.

[Huh, the knucklehead still seems to be waiting for an invite inside of the house]

"Minnow, none of that is true and you know it better than I do, but that Darla girl said that I would really like, oh, I mean, well, that Darla girl said you were in a green costume, but it seems that you changed and um, well, I like your outfit and I'm just now getting the feeling that I recognize your statement character look, so?"

Well, I did change my clothing and I think I describe my cheap St. Patty's Day costume in like (counts in head, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, twelve) I think I describe it in like twelve paragraphs down, so.

"I mean, this is my Go-Go look, do you not like it, Seth? I've already posted a couple of selfies on my Chang page today and nobody else has said anything negative about it, so?"

"No, no, it looks well put together and it fits you nicely, Minnow and um, it highlights the flares of your hips, um, which, um, which sounds a lot different than how I meant it to sound, um, I think, um..."

[The side door closes quickly! Not a slamming shut, but quick like Seth was in the alley access walkway]

[If that ever happened]

[It happened, so, what?]

So, seriously, my flared hips were highlighted then, hmm? I mean, mission accomplished then! I'm not very big, but I do have a nice flare in a certain place, but that's not the right way to say that, right? I mean, the way the knucklehead said it.

And it's not all that much of a flare and I wish it were more, but I guess it's enough to get noticed.

[Knock, rap, knock, rap, knock, rap, rap, rap]

The knucklehead will be fine at the side door, folks. Anyways, that's me, folks, the minnow sized Tranny type with the shorter dark hair and the perfectly flared hips! Which exactly size up with the rest of me, so, I mean, so, what if I highlight them, hmm?

So, having gotten Seth and his antics out of the way, let me fast forward (counts in head, March, April, May, three) the three months ahead since the week of the St. Patty's Day holiday, which brings me to the Memorial Day holiday weekend, which is where I just left off as I planned a brief group birthday celebration, which was for a group of (counts in head, RLPR, YLPY, PLPP, three) for a squad of three who, OMG, finally, all turned 18 themselves!

[Knock, knock, a muffled voice, "Minnow, I was going to finish my stupid statement with how I like the way you have stretchy shorts over your stretchy high-water pants too. They will look nice while you're showing off on the Strip some night. Or on, tee he, your bedroom floor, tee he. Minnow?"]

Anyways, since I'm still speaking back in time where Seth the knucklehead was still rapping and knocking on my side door, let me just finish with that even though I went very early to Randy's St. Patty's Day party, but didn't stay for very long, I did wear a cheap shiny green sequined pants suit costume that day, including some weird matching shiny hat and tee he, I think I would have left little piles of fallen cheap sequins behind if Seth and I would have "argued" behind Randy's pole barn, tee he, like a shiny and glistening trophy pile, tee he, but that chance was (counts in head, March, April, May, three) like three months ago and that's all in the rearview now. But I didn't know Seth very well then, so, I didn't know that he would be there and besides, as usual, there are always like (counts in head, 1, 2, 3, 4, four) four people who have no issue with me as I am and about (counts in head, 1, 2, 3, three) about three party guests who could care less that I am actually half way decent looking with high cheek bones to die for, but then there are always at least two guys (counts in head, 1 Bruno, 2 Gino, two) who I'd rather not have to confront after the second round of beer, so, that's why I didn't stay long.

[Knock, knock, a muffled voice, "Minnow, I was going to say something nice about the purple streak in your hair too, so? Minnow?"]

A patch, it's a feathered patch, folks, that sweeps from left to right across my forehead, but it's a rave party temporary dye patch for sure and it comes and goes every couple of weekends.

Anyways, since Seth didn't even bother to call or text over the next (counts in head, March, April, May, three) over the following three months since our passionate argument, I'm through with that and I consider that business closed and finished. And I still don't know who started it, I mean, once we got deep into the alley access walkway, that is.

[Knock, knock, a muffled voice, "Minnow, I'm getting the message, but you're going to see me on the Strip sooner or later anyways and socializing is a real thing, so? Minnow?"]

Well, that's enough about the knucklehead who couldn't call or text afterwards. And everybody sees everybody else while on the Strip, so, I mean, I socialize, so.

Anyways, back to the present and my idea of a quick birthday treats of tasty Whipped Swirls that I had already promised to (counts in head, RLPR, YLPY, PLPP, three) promised to my three friends for the Friday night of the beginning of the Memorial Day weekend holiday and since, as I just said, finally, they all three kissed their 18th strokes of midnight, which took, OMG (counts in head, one week, two weeks, three weeks, three) three weeks in the month of May to accomplish! But I remember my 18th and this would be their first trip to the Strip without supervision, so, well, that was the plan. Slip into a parking spot, slurp a few Whipped Swirls, give the Lolli Pop squad, oh, excuse me, the ex-Lolli Pop squad, time to stroll the Strip for a couple of minutes and call it a night.

LOL, again, the best laid plans of mice and Trap's, right?

Also, this is where the previous hint of booty shorts comes in and again, not for me, but for the ex-Lolli Pop squad girls, which I had no say in. That's how they trotted out of Red Lolli Pop Rena's house when I pulled up into the driveway. In color coordinated terrycloth booty shorts.

Which, in the end, aha, aha, aha, I wasn't complaining about. Well, I was complaining a little bit for not investing in terrycloth fabric market, but I could still do that in (counts in head, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, four), I could still do that in four days come Monday.

And I had room to complain when Red Lolli Pop Rena's mom came out the house with a broom in her hands because it drives her crazy that I gave her daughter the Red Lolli Pop nickname, but I drive her faggot dad crazy when I hang out there, so, that's all a wash, right?

"(Giggles) you better step on it, Minnow! Tee he, my dad runs faster than my mom, so, tee he, step on it and let's get this party started. We're half way to 19 and we're burning moonlight on the infamous Strip!"

Well, a slow roll is exactly the same, right? And (counts in head, this month minus twelve, eleven) they are not half way to 19. They're just legit, that's all.

And if I didn't mention it, oops, college sized volleyballs in terrycloth shorts are absolutely legit and I definitely wasn't complaining about that.

But I was complaining a little bit about the parking issues that the Strip is known for, but I almost came up with a plan because one way or another, I was parking my SUV in front of the Whipped Swirl Shop, no matter what objections the Black Denim crew had. Oh, and the Black Denim crew is about (counts in head, 1 Jake, 2 Blake, 3 Darla, 4 Jade, 5 Frank, 6 Dexter, six) they are about six members strong, but not as couples.