For a Pessimist, I am Pretty Optimistic

In high school, my friends and I did the same thing everyday. We’d hang out at the same person’s house after school. We’d order the same type of pizza from the corner pizzeria. Once a week we’d go to the same shopping center and watch a movie at the same movie theatre.

This repetitiveness drove me crazy, but everyone’s stubbornness was more absurd to me. No one was willing to take the bus 2 extra stops to the other (and bigger) shopping center. No one wanted to try the pizza at the new shop just across the street from our regular place. I complained about this constantly to my closest friend Sam, but he agreed with everyone else. “Why try something new when we know what we already like?” he’d always say.

The only time they did anything different than the norm was when I convinced everyone to go shopping in the West Village. We were all having fun until we stopped in a store to buy some gum where the cashier was in a loud argument with a patron. Both were yelling and waving their arms around excitedly. As the patron reached into his back pocket, Sam said “Oh crap he’s reaching for a gun, we better not get shot!” and ran out the store with everyone else at his heels. Meanwhile, the patron took out his wallet and threw some bills on the counter while he continued yelling.

After this incident, my friends began to distance themselves from me. They stopped inviting me to the movies and their phone calls became sporadic. Sam still talked to me, but even his conversations became awkward. I couldn’t help but ask him why everyone was being so weird around me.

“Well, it’s just that everyone thinks you changed and they don’t like it.”

“How have I changed?”

“Cause you want to go to the city all the time.”

“And what’s wrong with that? So what if I want to do something different once in a while? There’s a whole world outside of our neighborhood after all,” I retorted.

“Don’t get angry at me, that’s just what they were saying. And then they said that they might as well stop talking to you anyway since you plan on going away to college.”

“Seriously? They’ve stopped talking to me because I’m going to school upstate?!”

“Yeah, well they said that no one is going to want to go and visit you so far away.”

“Big fucking deal, so I’ll just visit them. Ooooh, but I’m not visiting those assholes. I hate them, I hate them!” I crossed my arms and pouted.

“Yeah they’re being really stupid. Don’t worry; we’ll still be best friends. We’ll just hang out without them,” Sam assured me.

2 months later, Sam stopped talking to me completely.

**********

Fast forward ten years later. Hubby and I are preparing for yet another move after living in my old neighborhood for 2 years. Sam and I renewed our friendship and hang out after work almost every day. On the weekends I would hang out with Sam and his current group of friends, comprised mainly of the same people from high school.

While I enjoyed re-connecting with everyone, I quickly grew weary of their company. It was déjà-vu. They ate at the same pizzeria as before and would go to the same movie theatre as before. The only change was that instead of hanging out everyday at someone’s house, they’d all hang out in the same boring over-priced bar.

Before the final move was made, I invited Sam and the others over for a BBQ. Sam was the only one to show up.

“What the hell? Everyone told me they were coming and no one even called to say otherwise!”

“I don’t know, they’ve been strange lately.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. Sam was silent. “Oh come on, just say it,” I prodded.

“Well, I don’t know. They say you haven’t changed much from before.”

I stared at him until he continued. “Well, you complained the other day that you didn’t like hanging out at the same bar. Some people were insulted by that.”

“Why would that insult anyone? Big deal, I don’t want to hang out on Bell Blvd. There are tons of other places to hang out.”

“Yeah, but they like hanging out there. You know, it’s pretty much majority rules.”

Fine, I’ll give him that. What a bunch of morons. Still, I couldn’t help but feel slighted. “Screw them,” I said, crossed my arms, and pouted.

Trying to reassure me, Sam added “Besides, you’re moving so you won’t be seeing them anymore anyway.”

“What do you mean? I’m moving only 15 minutes away?”

“Yeah, but you know no one’s going to want to drive out there.”

“Oh God, you’d think I was moving across the country or something.”

“Eh, they’re just being stupid. Screw them. I’ll still be over all the time. You’ll be sick of me.” He punched my arm playfully and smiled.

I haven’t heard from him since…

(The intended outcome of this article was supposed to showcase that yes, people do change after high school. Interesting how a little self-reflection can change one’s mind!  

Sure, you may not live in the same neighborhood, have the same interests, or even speak to the same people as you used to, but does that mean that you have truly changed? It’s my firm belief that by the time we have ended high school, we have developed personality traits (good or bad) that stick with us through our entire lives.  

After all, a gangly loner can grow into their looks and even become a millionaire, but the inevitable newfound popularity they’ll receive does not ensure that their childhood insecurities have gone away. Or the Pretty Boy Jock can lose his looks, jobs, friends, etc and say while admiring himself in the mirror “Yup, still got it!”)

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