A Girl Named Bazooka

When I was twelve my dad's girlfriend (who I hated) had a sixteen year old daughter who I worshiped. I loved going over to his house just to see her. I loved everything about her from her Led Zeppelin posters to the money that was always casually strewn on her floor. (I'd go home and toss some money on my floor too, but I always ended up picking it up. It was money!) Her name was Ann Marie but everyone called her Dee Dee. Just as much as I adored her, she ignored me. If I spent a full eight hours at their house and she just said, "Hey" to me, I was happy. At the time I thought she was this older mature woman. Looking back I realize she was just a teenager who, I'm sure, was very sick of having a twelve year old stare at her.

When she wasn't around, which was often (I like to pretend it wasn't because of me), I'd stand in the doorway to her room and just look around. I wanted to be her. I thought she was the coolest. I remember her blasting, "Heat of the Moment" by Asia and thinking that was the hardest rock song I'd ever heard.

Since I was too young to dress like her and too organized to keep my room like hers, I decided I wanted a nickname like she had. If I could just come up with something clever and catchy, I knew I'd be as cool as she was. I thought about it for all of a few hours when it hit me. The coolest, hippest name I could imagine: Bazooka. If I could just get everyone to call me Bazooka, I knew I wouldn't be ignored by her any longer. The trick was to get everyone to start calling me by my new self-appointed nickname. Not as easy as you'd think.

I started by calling my dad's house and when she answered I'd say, "Hey, Dee Dee, it's me, Bazooka. Is my dad there?" (I cringe just typing that.) Since nobody ever questioned it, I figured my new name was working. (Although, Dee Dee still didn't talk to me.)

I was really getting into having my own nickname when my dad's birthday rolled around. I thought, here's the perfect time to announce my new name to a room full of people.

My dad opened his presents and when he got to my card, he lingered. Somebody asked, "Who's it from?" My dad's response? "What the fuck is Bazooka?"

Horrified, I just slunk back and didn't say a word. That was the end of Bazooka.
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Monday

A Girl Named Bazooka

When I was twelve my dad's girlfriend (who I hated) had a sixteen year old daughter who I worshiped. I loved going over to his house just to see her. I loved everything about her from her Led Zeppelin posters to the money that was always casually strewn on her floor. (I'd go home and toss some money on my floor too, but I always ended up picking it up. It was money!) Her name was Ann Marie but everyone called her Dee Dee. Just as much as I adored her, she ignored me. If I spent a full eight hours at their house and she just said, "Hey" to me, I was happy. At the time I thought she was this older mature woman. Looking back I realize she was just a teenager who, I'm sure, was very sick of having a twelve year old stare at her.

When she wasn't around, which was often (I like to pretend it wasn't because of me), I'd stand in the doorway to her room and just look around. I wanted to be her. I thought she was the coolest. I remember her blasting, "Heat of the Moment" by Asia and thinking that was the hardest rock song I'd ever heard.

Since I was too young to dress like her and too organized to keep my room like hers, I decided I wanted a nickname like she had. If I could just come up with something clever and catchy, I knew I'd be as cool as she was. I thought about it for all of a few hours when it hit me. The coolest, hippest name I could imagine: Bazooka. If I could just get everyone to call me Bazooka, I knew I wouldn't be ignored by her any longer. The trick was to get everyone to start calling me by my new self-appointed nickname. Not as easy as you'd think.

I started by calling my dad's house and when she answered I'd say, "Hey, Dee Dee, it's me, Bazooka. Is my dad there?" (I cringe just typing that.) Since nobody ever questioned it, I figured my new name was working. (Although, Dee Dee still didn't talk to me.)

I was really getting into having my own nickname when my dad's birthday rolled around. I thought, here's the perfect time to announce my new name to a room full of people.

My dad opened his presents and when he got to my card, he lingered. Somebody asked, "Who's it from?" My dad's response? "What the fuck is Bazooka?"

Horrified, I just slunk back and didn't say a word. That was the end of Bazooka.
Post a Comment