Five Things I Wish I'd Done But Didn't:
- Embarrassed the guy who couldn't flush.
At my old office, there was a guy on our floor who apparently suffered from some kind of congenital defect which prevented him from flushing. Every couple days you'd find a loosely coiled surprise, bobbing gently as it waited for you.
It was like I always imagined Christmas would be if you were the kid who lit puppies on fire.
I actually caught the fucker leaving the bathroom after packaging up his daily gift one day, and was sorely tempted to follow him all the way back to his office, and then stop him in his lobby, and loudly tell him, "Hey man... I saw that thing you left in the toilet... no, no, no... don't worry about it, I flushed it for you, man. But seriously... I'm concerned about your diet."
Dear 2006 Taco: sometimes it's all about commitment to the bit. Keep your eye on the ball and follow through.
- Bought the Torino.
When my first car started to nickel and dime me to death, I donated it to charity and started shopping for a new ride. I found an old Gran Torino with a rebuilt engine being sold for a song and dance.
Like any good nerd, I immediately had mental images of riding that awesome chunk of steel around town while blaring "Ride of the Valkyries" and "Dogs of War."
In the end, I did the "responsible" thing and bought a sedan from Saturn.
Dear 1999 Taco: I'm not talking to you.
- Stayed enrolled in that fiction class.
Despite the prerequisites listed in the course catalog, I did not have the background necessary to keep up with the class, and I didn't really feel like my writing was up to the level of the rest of the class. I really enjoyed the material though, so I hit the professor during his office hours to find out what I needed to do, and he gave me a reading list.
The list was quite extensive, and I was starting up on that hellish semester every discipline has. You know the one: that couple of months where they try their damnedest to make you give up and change over to a degree in leisure skills.
So I dropped myself from the class. I continued to attend, and I did all the background reading in my spare time, but I didn't turn in any assignments or take any tests, since I wasn't getting a grade. The professor was pissed, since I was the only one in the class actually interested in the material.
Dear 1997 Taco: Your idealism is cute, but you probably wouldn't be struggling so hard to finish a damn short story 10 years later if you'd gotten some supervised practice in class.
- Puked on the nurse's shoes.
I caught a hellacious stomach virus one year. I've never been so sick. My supposed girlfriend at the time left me in a field to rot when she got tired of dealing with me, and a stranger took me to the urgent care place.
We got to the urgent care place at 9:45am, but they didn't open until 10:00. One of the nurses was standing outside windexing the front door. I told her I was really sick and needed to vomit, and asked if I could go inside to use their facilities, but she wouldn't let me.
That old familiar feeling reasserted itself right then, and for a moment I considered letting fly on her white orthopedic shoes, but instead, I filled the bushes by the sidewalk with chunky bile.
Dear 1995 Taco: Bitch had it coming. Consider yourself Karma's agent (you'll think that's funny in 2005, I promise). Also, dude, seriously. Dump the bitch.
She was pretty, smart, and the guitarist for a band. I was convinced I was too big a nerd, and concerned over the delta of her awesomeness to mine, so I didn't pursue it when I should have.
Dear 1993 Taco: when girls show you their piercings and insist on baking you birthday cakes, they're into you. Get your head out of your ass and say yes.