July 28, 2002
Velamints and Cobwebs

Upon later questioning, he would admit to having cared. At the time, though, his feelings were masked by a waxy patina of nicotine, acne, late-night coffee, tritely stated but poorly understood dogma, and hormones.

It began with the voodoo grapevine of porno mag advice columns, whispered rumors in the boy’s bathroom, and half-heard conversations among his older brother’s best friends. All the mystic signs indicated that chicks dig bad boys, so he adopted an air of indifference and a permanent sneer. Not that he ever had any choice in the matter, since to ignore the inscrutable masters would invite punishment from the autocratic high school status quo. So it was rebellion above all else, and it actually worked. An unending stream of clean and pretty girls who’d grab his crotch in the middle of the movie and maybe hike up their skirts in the backseat of his car, but were seemingly unaware of his presence upon later meetings. Which was just fine, since their friends were already eyeing his leather jacket and torn jeans.

As the years passed, school spun a chrysalis and emerged dripping and rank as employment. All the pretty girls had already visited the wrong side of the tracks, leaving him still sneering and misunderstood, but now celibate. He quickly sensed something was amiss and consulted the newly matured and responsible voodoo grapevine of GQ, whispered rumors in the bar, and half-heard conversations in the health center locker room. Now the signs indicated that chicks dig sensitive guys, so he wore soft shoes and donated money to Amnesty International. The stream of clean and pretty girls returned anew, grabbing his crotch in the middle of the third act and maybe hiking up their skirts on the brilliant white carpet in his third-floor apartment. When they asked about his past over drinks he eagerly confessed that he had truly cared, deep beneath the chitinous adolescent blustering. His clean-shaven face and kind voice perfectly matched his considerate platitudes, and his glasses, shining brightly in the lights, partially obscured his gentle but hungry eyes.

Posted on July 28, 2002 12:21 AM


Posted by: Sarah on July 29, 2002 07:37 AM

did you *write* this, you bastard bastard bastard?

because it's good good good.

Posted by: didofoot on July 29, 2002 08:54 AM

*blush* Thanks.

Posted by: Jacob on July 29, 2002 10:52 AM

it is really good!

it doesn't sound like your "voice" at all though.

(suspicious), are you sure you wrote it? :)

Posted by: michele on July 29, 2002 11:32 AM

wow, that really is great, jacob. boy, do i hate men. except for you and a few others, of course. =)

Posted by: erica on July 29, 2002 01:45 PM

Jesus Christ, Jacob, where the hell did this come from? It's incredible. Have you written anything else, because you should.

"School spun a chrysalis..."!?! You couldn't buy that.

Posted by: jason on July 29, 2002 09:58 PM

I know. it's freaking wonderful. why don't you write a book jacob boy? then you could meet gwyneth paltro and we could all hobnob with the money.

Posted by: didofoot on July 30, 2002 08:55 AM

mmmm.... gwynneth paltrow... mmmm... yummy prose... *licks page*

Posted by: dianna on July 30, 2002 01:32 PM

*furious blushing*
I haven't written anything else since I was ten and spat out some really horrid science fiction. I've always kind of assumed that all my ideas now would be just as bad. Then a few phrases from this bit hit me in the face as I was driving; Kristen had posted some of her prose on Cementhorizon, so I decided to see what would happen if I posted it....

*wipes saliva off the page* But of all the responses, I never expected slobbering....

Posted by: Jacob on July 30, 2002 09:23 PM

slobbering! i beg your pardon, i did not slobber! i merely licked!

*huff* see if i ever do that again.....

Posted by: dianna on July 30, 2002 09:47 PM

Well, I was taking it as high praise. But if the screen-taste offended....

Posted by: Jacob on July 30, 2002 10:01 PM

ooops... it was high praise. my apologies for the huffiness.....

Posted by: dianna on July 30, 2002 10:14 PM

well, fun though all these comments are, wouldn't it be great if you wrote something ELSE for us to talk about?

incidentally, brief conversation at baseball this week consisted of all of your college folks and me sitting around going "wasn't it GOOD? who knew he was so good! but it didn't sound like his voice. yes it did. no it didn't." basically, all comments you've already heard here, minus the dianna slobber.

Posted by: didofoot on August 1, 2002 11:36 AM

I was kind of worried about the pressure to write something else. Who knew I'd be subjected to publish or perish without even being published yet?

And really, I'll take the dianna slobber over the other comments any day. No offense to the commenters, but....

Posted by: Jacob on August 1, 2002 04:22 PM

i think i speak for all of us when i say, "ewww! jacob, ewwwww!!!"

Posted by: erica on August 2, 2002 01:52 PM

hey... what's so bad about my slobber?

Posted by: dianna on August 2, 2002 05:21 PM

i think it's having to HEAR about the favorable reaction to your slobber that we object to.

actually i don't think that. i know that.

Posted by: michele on August 8, 2002 09:43 PM

jacob, whatever happened to the fiction, eh? let's have a return to the fiction.

Posted by: didofoot on June 12, 2003 04:04 PM

"I'll write another piece of fiction and post it within 24 hours."

Wow...it's a self-fulfilling prophecy!

Posted by: Jacob on June 12, 2003 04:27 PM

Seriously, though, I've found myself gripped by the spectre of self-doubt. Three time since writing this I've had ideas, but after a few sentences I slap myself in the face and delete it all.

Posted by: Jacob on June 12, 2003 04:28 PM