I don’t know about you guys, but I’m the kind of person who like to have really interesting friends who do crazy, unexpected things. One of these friends is named Amy.
That’s right, Amy, I’m blogging about you. Didn’t see that coming, huh? Ha!
Well, Amy and I have a kind of tradition here at State. We like to pull pranks, and good ones. A couple years ago, we pulled a super evil prank on one of our debate coaches. It was the last day of the tournament, we were all done with rounds, and we were heading to the auditorium where the awards ceremony is. Amy and I left a little early to walk over, and it took us a grand total of two minutes to find the building. What we forgot was that we were supposed to call the coach and tell them when we got to the building…so, about fifteen minutes later, we get an anxious call from the teacher. “Did you guys make it? Where are you?”
Amy took one look at me, grinned like an idiot, and said “Ms E! We’re lost! I think we’re back at the hotel! How do we get back to the campus?”
Our hotel was about…ten plus miles from the OU campus.
The teacher, of course, freaked out. “Oh my goodness, how did you get down there? We’ll have to send someone to get you. Where’s PBS? Where…how…”
We hung up, laughing hysterically. Two seconds later, my phone buzzed. One of my fellow debaters asked if we were really that lost. We said no, we were pranking Ms E. The fellow debater had a big mouth and told Ms E…and out gig was up. The friend told us that Ms E was really mad. She wouldn’t answer our phone calls, and she wouldn’t talk to us.
About twenty minutes later, however, she shows up. She was laughing; not mad at all! She got us back; we had been feeling pretty bad for making the teacher so mad!
But this year, it was apparently my turn to get pranked.
So here’s how it started:
Ms E told me last night that Amy had a boyfriend. I kind of freaked out (the happy, oh-my-gosh-why-didn’t-you-tell-me kind of freak out. I texted her about five times and asked why she hadn’t told me, and who is this guy, and stuff like that. She didn’t text back. So, I called her, left a slightly frantic voicemail, and tried to be patient and wait for her to call me back.
I’m a very impatient person.
She finally called me back at about eleven last night, and I finally got to hear about this guy. She described him in some detail–not a lot, but enough for my freak-out mode, and then she told me to get a pen and write down his last name, because it was really cool and I would really like it. I rushed to my room, grabbed a sharpie and a pad of paper, and she told me his name. She spelled it:
G. U. L. L. I. B. L. E.
Now you see why I was a little bit mad.
It was really funny afterwards, but it was also kind of embarrassing. Ms E was in on it, too, of course.
I shall never fall for this again, mark my words…
Watch your back, Amy.