Cool Kids

 

Cool Kids

The cool kids at the cool table didn’t make fun of us losers, they ignored us, which was much worse.      

The coolest of the cool kids were the top jock and the head cheerleader.  They just sat there with their perfect hair, perfect skin, and perfect teeth.  We wanted to be exactly like them, so we hated them. 

One day I walked right up to the cool table and barged into their conversation, assuming I’d get a beating.  Instead, the top jock asked me to join them. 

The cheerleader said, “I noticed you in math.”

The top jock said, “You should come to my party this weekend.  My parents are out of town.”

Suddenly I was one of the cool kids, so all my loser friends hated me.  To patch things up, I invited all the cool kids and losers to a party at my house together, when my parents were out of town.  We put aside our differences.  All of us losers were suddenly cool.  The only kids who were still not cool were the smart kids. They were too busy studying to party.  Not cool.        

At our high school reunion, all of us cool kids had a great time together, reminiscing about sports and parties.  High school was the best time of our lives.  But the outsiders, the smart kids, kept to themselves.  I felt sorry for them, so I walked right up to them and barged into their conversation. 

I said, “You probably don’t remember me.  I was one of the cool kids.”

The smartest boy said “I recognize you.  You mow my lawn.”

The smartest girl said, “Weren’t you the clown at my son’s birthday party?”

That wasn’t cool.  I wanted to help them be cool like us, so I said, “Come to my 30th birthday party this weekend. My parents are out of town.”