Fit in the Second: On Safari

   Incognito. Odds are, it’s one of my middle names, but it’s also an intelligent-sounding way to say ‘undercover.’ In this week’s story, I intrepidly brave the unknown and return (mostly) alive with a story for you, dear readers. The emotional scarring was even kept to a minimum, an unexpected but thoroughly wonderful outcome. Medal, please. Any old Pulitzer will do. No? Fine.

   Nevertheless! In this segment of your favorite column (if this isn’t your favorite column, get out) I’ve done the impossible: entered a new clique.

   You know the cliques, groups of people with similar interests or activities. They skulk the halls in packs, intermingling and ignoring different people all at once like some kind of two-headed mingly… oblivious beast-thing!

   For the first of what may be many Red Talon safaris, I forcefully insert myself into one of the juggernauts of cliques, whether they like it or not, and record the results of my time among…

…the preps.

[Wednesday, April 13, 2011 – 0700-something Hours]

   A favorite song of mine begins ‘it was an early morning barroom.’ It was that kind of feeling, a feeling of not belonging (and it being early) that flooded me as I walked into school with my plan formulated. The place was next to empty and eerily so. I sat down near the hunting grounds of a very particular sect of the prep clique and waited - waited and reassured myself that what I was doing was going to be entertaining enough to risk the horrible psychological pain.

   Finally, after too long, there were enough of my marks gathered together in one area to warrant getting closer. I approached them warily, ready to flee at the first hate-filled glance that came my way. Surprisingly, I was able to rather easily slip in and pretend to listen to several of them talk about some kind of sportsgame and just how many rundowngoals their team had scored. Now, I’m a so-so actor, but I knew I had them convinced of my fascination.

“…and then twenty-three came in and *fshh*, tagged out.”
“Whoa! Really? That’s awesome. No, really, awesome. Isn’t that awesome? Hahaha! Aren’t we all such good friends? Look at us. We’re the best friends that anyone-“

   At that point I’d begun singing my own rendition of one of those character songs from The Hangover that nobody remembers, so they think you’re totally original. The preps looked at me with wide eyes (and a couple open mouths); oh yeah, they saw me as one of their own. Mission accomplished.

   There was a bit of a hitch… At one point, this fairly large fellow who shall remain nameless walked in and stood behind me. The looks of amazement they gave to him, like dogs eagerly waiting for their master’s, hand told me he was their king. If I could convince him of my belonging, I would be the queen... or something like that.

“You’re in my seat…”
His voice was gravelly and disturbing, like a pack of cigarettes had spent the day chain-smoking and gargling liquid hatred. I took it as a good sign.
“Am I? Well, excuse me. I was just sing-“
He cut me off with a shove that caused me to fall to the floor and bruise myself in places I care not mention. The group laughed. I felt like they’d accepted me, albeit with distance. The King called me not by my name, but by an expletive I cannot have reprinted in this publication. The group laughed again. I was their jester, I guess.

   As I slowly rose to my feet and brushed the dust and tobacco fluids from my pants, I took a bow. They continued to laugh. Two of the girls in their pack covered their mouths to keep from snorting. I had definitely left an impression. The King told me to ‘get out of here’ with such a wide smile on his face that I just knew in my heart of hearts that I’d made a friend. This ape-like man-child was someone I could count on to take me to the airport or take my lunch money to put it into his bank account for safekeeping. That’s what he told me he’d do with it anyway…

   With that, I left and rejoined my usual gang until the school day began. I had a spring in my step and a song in my heart, because even though I wasn’t a ‘prep’ I’d no doubt be welcomed among them from there on. I can’t wait to start receiving all those invitations to crazy parties that I know are going on. I’m sure my invites won’t be misplaced anymore.

   So ended my adventure with the preps and my first Red Talon safari. Any ideas on which group I should infiltrate next? How about what you’d like to see covered in a future column? Don’t think I’m funny at all? Leave something in the comments section below and let me know!