I have a birthday coming up, but I’m not that excited about it. After my 21st birthday last year, 22 was never going to be as exciting, but that’s not why I’m so disinterested this year. The real reason I’m not interested is because ever since I turned nine my birthdays have gone downhill, all because some kids at school decided to boycott my birthday party.

Why? Glad you asked.

Let me take you back to Field Day, 2004, at Thornell Elementary School.

So there was this race. To see who was the fastest kid in school. Being the greatest and best and most successful athlete to ever come from that school, I of course won by a mile. Huge mile. Anyway, there was this “official” at the race who alleged that I somehow jumped the gun or gained an advantage in some way over the other kids. If you still need a visual, there is a whole Seinfeld episode about this very subject. And they call it a show about nothing.

Despite mounting evidence to the contrary, I maintain my innocence in this situation. I have never been officially declared a cheater, and any accusations made against me have always been settled off the field by teachers and proven nothing.

Either way, due to these absurd allegations by the people who lost by a landslide, they decided as a group to boycott my birthday party.

I was kinda nervous about this, as obviously the size of a kid’s birthday party in elementary school is directly tied to how successful they will be. Turns out I was completely wrong about the whole thing. We had a fucking ball. Tremendous time. The best time. Once all the kids who didn’t want to be there weren’t there, no one could stop us from having the best times imaginable.

If people had been there, they would have been complaining about what we were doing and generally ruined the whole thing.

Instead we could do whatever we wanted and make all those other kids jealous, and make me forget about the whole race thing.



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