~The Origin of Enemies~

Summer 2001: The phone rings....I ignore it....it rings again...."ugh...who the crap is bugging me?"....I.D. reads: Sister. "What the crap does she want?" I pick it up

TS: what...
AS: I'm coming to pick you up, we're going pawn shopping.
TS: huh?....why?....
AS: shut it, you're coming...
TS: whatever...come pick me up I guess...

This is the beginning, the starting point to a feud that makes the Hatfield's and McCoys look like the Brady family. I rustled around my bedroom, smelling shirts, deciding which one was worthy of wearing for the day, which one will make me look super fly. Theres a knock at the door, its her, "come on!" she says, knowing I don't like to be hurried. Out the door we go heading to some dingy shop, not knowing what in the world I've gotten myself into. I ask questions but she avoids them. As we stroll into the store, walls garnished in beat up guitars, stereo equipment missing knobs, and shelves full of old videos and games, she says "just go look around, see if you can find any good deals, I need to talk to this guy over here for a minute". I'm slightly annoyed but whatever. Off to the corner of the store I head, admiring an old Fender hanging on the wall, volume knob missing, scuffs on the back from the loving caress of a belt buckle through years of playing time. As I wander around for a while I feel a tap on the shoulder, "Excuse me sir, could I ask you a couple questions?"....I reply, "um...ok...i guess..". "What year were you born?". Who is this guy? Why is he asking me this? "1983....". He goes on "OK, do you have any health problems? On a scale of 1 to 10 what kind of shape would you say your in? I mean I can see you're overweight, and your teeth are kinda wack, but is there anything else?". What kind of questions are these? Is this Son of a b**** hitting on me? I mean I do look pretty sexy in this Bill Goldberg Tshirt and jean shorts which have shimmied their way up between my husky thighs...but this is just getting strange. "What you see is what you get dude. Who are you? And why are you asking me this??" He looks away, nods his head in the direction of my sister as if summoning her to come here. "What the hell is going on Amy? Who is this joker?" I'm completely ignored. She turns to him, "So, what do you think"? "WHAT DOES HE THINK ABOUT WHAT AMY!"? Still ignored. I'm getting pissed now. "Well, he's a pretty rough unit, we can't do a lot with someone of this size, maybe if he had some abs and a retainer I could help you out a little more, but in this condition I'd have to say I couldn't go more than 7". "700 DOLLARS!" She exclaimed! "No No No No, 7 dollars babe". I interrupt, "Are you trying to pawn me!!!"?? Before I could finish my sentence "SOLD!". "AMY! GET REAL DUDE! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!? YOU REALLY THINK I'M GONNA SIT IN THIS SHOP EVERY DAY TILL SOMEONE BUYS ME!? OOHH HEEELLLLZZZ NO!". She had a confused look upon her face "Tanner! that's a gooood deal! and I really only need six bucks to afford the backstreet boys album!". I stomped of in rage, right after I threw my double decker taco on the floor for the douche bag pawn broker to clean up. Needless to say we didn't get along very well after that day, not only because of this incident, but because she made me walk home since I wouldn't let her pawn me! To this day she still holds it against me that Lindsey got the backstreet boys Cd before she did. As I walked for what seemed like days, I cussed her the whole way, swearing, vowing that one day I would get my revenge. I would show her I was worth more than 7 dollars! soon my friends, soon she will pay...