The Taylor Files, Vol 4

The continuing saga of one boy, some sticky notes, and the random-ass conversations he decides to have with me during the day.

Need to learn karate to fight bully.

Want to teach me or what?

[some random dude who works at a cardiology center nearby sat down at my table at lunch and chatted me up- when he left, Taylor walked up]

Taylor: “Sam, was that guy your boyfriend?”

Me: “No. He was just some guy who sat down here. He did give me his number, though.”

Taylor: “So, he’s gonna be your boyfriend.”

Me: “Yeah, no. That’s not happening.”

Taylor: “Why? Was he weirding you out?”

Me: “Not really. It was just awkward. And I’m not interested in him.”

Taylor: “Because if he was weirding you out, you should have just pointed to me and said, ‘That’s my boyfriend over there.’ And I would have just flexed and he would have ran away.”

Me: *laughing* “I’ll do that next time, Taylor.”

Taylor: “I’d just put my leg up like this *assumes Captain Morgan-style stance* and flex my muscles like this and-”

[at this point, Taylor burned himself with his lit cigarette while attempting to show me his big flexing move, causing him to start beating at his arm and topple sideways as he lost his footing]

Taylor: “I’m going to just give some girl my number, then say something really awkward after that.”

Me: “Like what?”

Taylor: “Oh, I’ll think of something.”

[the conversation then trailed off into talk about cell phone plans]

Random employee: “I only pay $40 a month, and I have unlimited text and internet and talk.”

Taylor: “What provider do you have?”

Random employee: “Virgin.”

Taylor: “Hey, I’m a virgin! I should get that!”

Me: “Taylor, there you go- there’s your awkward line to tell the girl.”

Taylor: “Yeah! ‘Hey baby, here- *whispers* I’m a virgin.'”

Me: “That’s good and awkward.”

Taylor: “Or how about, ‘My mom says you can’t touch me, but we can talk, if you want.'”

Me: “Never mind. That’s the winner.”

Taylor: *pause* “Sam, did your mom ever tell your brother that she was his girlfriend? Like, as a joke?”

Me: “…No Taylor, she didn’t.”

[at this point, everyone at the table around us echoes that they’ve never heard of anyone doing that]

Taylor: “I know a couple guys whose moms did that.”

Me: “You mean you. Your mom did that.”

Taylor: “NO! Well, yeah, but I’m not the only one!”

Me: “I’ve never heard of anyone doing that, Taylor.”

Taylor: “I’ll get proof. I’ll get them to write you a letter. On letterhead. At the top, it will say, ‘Definitely Not From Taylor’s Mom’, so that you know it’s legit.”

Complaint @ Eunice.

Being a jerk to Taylor.

Taylor: “Sam, I think I have trench foot.”

Me: “What? How?”

Taylor: “I’ve been sitting in the trenches all day, Sam. This whole place is No Man’s Land.

Need a nameplate to look impressive!

-That Guy

[telling me about a call he made to a vendor at my request]

Taylor: “I got all the info I needed. Her name, address, who supplies her gas.”

Me: “That’s a weird question to ask a lady. Just a pro tip.”

Taylor: “You know who supplies her gas?”

Me: “Who?”

Taylor: “Mexican food. *beat* Speaking of which, last night I had a bunch of beans, rice, cheese, and salsa, and I just mixed ’em all up in a bowl and ate them. …I pity the toilet that has to see the bright side of the moon, if you know what I mean.

What would you do for a Klondike bar?

[on saying ‘girl’ with a ghetto flair]

Taylor: “You just need to put some attitude into it.”

Me: “I keep my attitude tightly leashed at work.”

Taylor: [turning in his seat to look me in the eye, dead serious] “I don’t- I’m a beast.”

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