Today is Thursday- white spiders on windshields

I just got home from work, and paused for a moment in my driveway. Modern English was on the radio, and I paused to listen to my youth. The predictability of the song reminded me of the predictability of high school. Graduation and the prom are the final handshakes into adulthood; or more fittingly, out of adolescence.
My original date, Michelle Greenberg, dumped me the day of the prom. I had already rented the turquoise cummerbund (such a strange word) and bow tie. I was a bit relieved that she dumped me. The first time we fucked, she was disappointed by my lack of chest muscles. I think she actually said, 'oh, is that all?' I was not sure what she was expecting from a 6'4", 170 lb geek.
When I ate her out she acted like she was miserable, but would grab onto my head and force me deeper into her. So suffocating. My only escape was to make her orgasm. In the end, my lower teeth cut into the bottom of my tongue and my jaw ached, but I could breathe. I think I have TMJ.
She had long, black hairs growing out of her areolae. I tried to nibble them off, but it kinda made me sick. She dumped me for her ex-boyfriend. He played baseball with my brother. I think he hated my brother, so he was probably getting back at him by humiliating me. I actually think that he did me a favor. Too many ingested long, black hairs made me immune to rejection.
I was set up with a friend at the last minute. We went to the dance. She ended up screwing Brian Aubouf. Fitting. When we were sophomores, during a raucous round of dog pile, I accidentally kneed him in his left cheek. An inch or so below his eye a bloodied fissure appeared. Several weeks later, when the scar appeared after the bandages were removed, all you could see was the jagged line that my knee created. It was in such a strange and unattractive location. Just right there in the middle of his face. Depending on how you looked at it. True north his eye, true west his nose, true east his ear, and true south his dewlap, and right there in the middle, like a little compass arrow, my scar. I call it my scar since my knee created it for him. Kinda like calling your kids your kids; unless, of course they are another person's biological kids and you are parenting them. Not sure what you call them then. I would think that Lili is a daughter to her father, while she is my kid. or child.
Anyway, Brian was vain. Really, really vain; so he was very, very distraught.
He probably still hates me today. But, I figure he waited for the right moment to get revenge. He nailed that nasty, little over-weight girl that I drove to and from the prom. I figure we are all square even though I would not have slept with the porcine prom date. Well, maybe I would have, but that was a long time ago and I need to feel good about myself today.

In the car while 'I melt with you' played, I stared at several (three or four) small, white spiders that were trying to walk across my windshield. They had long, angular legs and small bodies. It appeared that they had rather large mandibles. And they were very white, almost to the point of being translucent. They looked like they were trying to climb to the top of the windshield. Their legs were pounding, pounding, pounding on the glass but they could not make any ground upward. They sort of just stayed in place. Occasionally, one of them would crawl a little bit. But, then a slight breeze would come by and knock them over and down. It looked like they would defensively curl into a ball when the breeze struck them.
Up again they would go.
I wanted to turn on my windshield wipers. I wanted to kill them with that blue liquid that the guy from the oil changing place keeps putting back into my car. I wanted to get out of the car and squish them with my Treo. I wanted to gnash them between my molars. They reminded me of Michelle and her long, black areola hair.
She lactated these little, white spiders out. Squirting them into the air, and sent them to me with the message: 'oh, is that all?'
Xioba