Being There

Have you ever had someone try to tell you a funny story, but when nobody laughs, they say, “Well, I guess you just had to be there.” ? Actually, this happens to me quite a bit. So before I tell you my funny story, I will attempt to actually put you in the scene:

It was Friday at around 12:45 PM. The place: Good Stuff restaurant. The city: El Segundo, California. This is your quintessential beach-town eatery, with floor to ceiling windows and surfboards on the walls. The air outside was rather chilly, with just a hint of the morning fog still lingering. Inside, the temperature was a comfortable 76 degrees.

We were seated in one of the less desirable spots: a center table, right near the front door. It was a table for four, yet there were only three of us. I sat facing west, while my friends chose to sit opposite of me, facing east.

There were no females in our party, so the banter tended to lean toward the discussion of the surfer-chick waitresses, most of whom did a very good job of distorting the restaurant logo on the front of their t-shirts: gOOd sTUff.

After my friends and I finished confirming our heterosexuality, the topic of discussion turned toward childhood exploits. This was the story I told:

One day, when I was a kid, I gathered all of my friends and family to watch me “pop a wheelie” on my friend’s bike. There they all were, lined up on the sidewalk, waiting for this momentous event. I climbed onto the bike, got it up to speed and when I felt the time was right, I pulled up hard on the handlebars. Unfortunately, in my excitement, I pulled up too hard. Before I knew it, my butt was kissing the asphalt and the bike was crashing into a parked car.

This story got a little chuckle out of my coworkers and reminded one of them about how, when he was a child, he used to be able to ride a wheelie all the way around the block.

“In fact,” he said, “sometimes I still dream about riding a wheelie down the street. Don’t you ever dream about doing something you used to do a long time ago?”

“Not really,” I replied. “Well, sometimes I dream I’m having sex.”

Anyhow, that’s the story. What? OK, maybe you had to be there.

Comments 15

  1. dvl wrote:

    hahahaHAHAHAhahahah.
    ahem.

    Posted 29 Oct 2005 at 10:05 am
  2. Smivey wrote:

    Sometimes truth is funnier than fiction.

    Posted 29 Oct 2005 at 7:23 pm
  3. Wendy wrote:

    I giggled pretty hard at that one.

    Posted 31 Oct 2005 at 3:53 pm
  4. JeN wrote:

    And I thought I was there…

    Posted 01 Nov 2005 at 7:04 am
  5. nels wrote:

    I was there. It was pretty damn funny. In a tragic, sad sort of way. :-P

    Posted 03 Nov 2005 at 3:17 am
  6. - bob wrote:

    do we know the same people?

    Posted 04 Nov 2005 at 4:49 am
  7. Smivey wrote:

    I don’t think we do, bob.

    Posted 09 Nov 2005 at 12:22 am
  8. boredhousewife wrote:

    Yes, that was funny. Without having to be there, even. :)

    Now all I can think of are hideously inappropriate plays on “being there” and “the next time you have sex”. So I won’t GO there. :)

    Posted 12 Nov 2005 at 4:21 am
  9. Ross wrote:

    How could the table where you sat be in the center and right near a door at the same time? I’m pretty sure that’s geometrically impossible unless the room is really small.

    Posted 21 Nov 2005 at 1:58 am
  10. Anonymous waitress wrote:

    loving that.
    i mean your conclusion.
    laughing

    Posted 20 Oct 2006 at 6:59 pm
  11. Smivey wrote:

    Yes, I laugh about it all the time. Because I am pathetic.

    Posted 20 Oct 2006 at 10:22 pm
  12. jules bianchi wrote:

    you know what they say about sex…its just like riding a bike…

    Posted 24 Oct 2006 at 1:42 pm
  13. Smivey wrote:

    I haven’t ridden my bike in over two years. Seriously.

    Posted 04 Nov 2006 at 9:41 pm
  14. C.S.D. wrote:

    Well, is it because it’s broken?

    ;)

    Posted 12 Dec 2006 at 10:03 am
  15. Smivey wrote:

    No, it’s quite functional, thank you very much.

    Posted 12 Dec 2006 at 10:09 am

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