Nine Inch Nailed at the Sock Hop

It was one of those Fridays when I felt like I had nothing to wear because there was not one piece of clothing in the closet that made me feel sexy and confident and ready to take on the town.  My makeup was done, the cat eyes were purrfect and my lips were as red as a corvette.  That’s when my friends told me to go naked, so I did.  Mysteriously, by the time that we left the house I found I was dressed in a little white number with gold accessories- kind of reminded me of She-Ra, but it didn’t matter- we were going to the sock hop!

The group of us made our way down the street, in a manner strangely reminiscent of some video we’d seen in the days when MTV still aired those kinds of things.  We laughed, we joked, we pushed each other into oncoming traffic- we were carefree!  It was then that a man stepped forth from the alley and blocked our way.

“Hey, little girls,” he said, smelling curiously like Summer’s Eve Fresh Meadows, “I see that you’re on your way to the sock hop.”

“Why, yes, yes we are, but we mustn’t speak to you- you’re a stranger!” said my friend, who was dressed as Pedo-Bear.

“No, I’m no stranger!  Here, let me introduce myself,” at that moment, my friend’s phone chimed and she’d received a follow request from Twitter.

“Right, well then, we must be friends now!” She said and gave the brightly dressed man a hug,”My friend- what are you doing standing in this dark alley?”

“Well, I’m trying to get rid of these magic cigarettes.  They’ve been specially made for me by the bath salt company, but I’ve recently quit smoking!  I’m just not sure what I can do to get my money back and I’ve got to pay my rent tonight!”  The brightly dressed man was twitching so rhythmically that I thought he was moon-walking back and forth across the alley and my friend threw up her hands tossing her wallet at her new friend.  He then tossed her 2 boxes of cigarettes and ran faster than any skinny white kid since Maniac Magee and one phrase kept rolling through my head- stranger danger.

Taken from

The rest of the way to the sock hop, my friends were pressuring me smoke one of these fancy cigarettes, but I’ve learned to live above the influence and continued to sip on slizurp while politely refusing their advances.  It wasn’t until the door man looked at me like a wolf that I noticed my party had not actually made it to the door with me.

“It appears that my friends have abandoned me!  May I please get in for free?” I asked sweetly.

“There’s no cover, love, go right on in!” he said with a wink.

I proceeded to the bar but was stunned at the scene before my eyes.  Millions of glowing, wolf like eyes had turned in my direction and were glaring at me as though I were a side of beef.  I coughed nervously, trying to determine if I could make a run for the door when a blood curdling scream came from the door.  My friends had finally gotten there, but to my horror they’d turned into Zombies in the time that we’d been apart- God Damn You Bath Salts!

They were viciously making their way through the crowd of fantastically good-looking werewolves that I’d found myself trapped by.  Ears flew by me and the white parts of my dress were slowing becoming covered in congealing crimson streaks of blood.  It was then that I noticed one of my favorite songs, Ringfinger, coming from the speakers and over the screams as the wolves began to turn into Zombies and assist my posse with dispatching the rest of the crowd.

  As the screams died down and my friends made their way back to the bar, I saw him standing there on the dance floor, still swaying as through holding the date that the guy next to him was chewing on.  It made my heart melt.  I went over to him and looked lovingly into his glistening cataracts.

“Hi there, what’s your name?”

“LeRoy, LeRoy Lamont,” he replied,”You know that your friend over their ate my fiance, right?”

“I’m so sorry about that, they were given these Bath Salt Cigarettes on the way here and I told them to just say no, but what can you do?”  The zombie chewing on LeRoy’s woman stood with two-thirds of an ear dangling from his tooth.  He’d been dressed like 1970’s Elvis, but had somehow managed to lose the pant part of the sequined jump-suit.

“Hey, Bubba. You don’t look so good. And why ain’t you wearin’ no britches?” LeRoy asked.  Elvis shrugged, groaned, and began to pick his way through the bodies in search of fresher meat.

“Would you like me to walk you home, little lady?”  My dress had now gone completely Crimson and my gold accessories were transformed into black leather.  He handed me a matching crimson cloak from the racks by the door as we walked arm-in-arm back toward my apartment.

And the moral of this rambling and pointless little farce is, well, who am I kidding- there really isn’t a moral, I’m just really bored.  HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY WEEKEND EVERYONE!


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