Blubbo thought that he could jerk off one more time before Thanksgiving dinner started and with care, he hovered at the top of the stairs, listening to who had already arrived.
As it was, Blubbo spent the majority of time in his room. Small and directly across the hall from his parents bedroom, Blubbo had created for himself a space which gave him little reason to ever leave. His walls were covered with a variety of shopping bags: Abercrombie and Fitch, American Eagle and Aeropostal, proving that he was hip to the latest fashion trends, in the even that he ever had a visitor. The room smelled of Safari Cologne.
“Everyone has their own deodorant/cologne,” Dan Ladd explained to Blubbo one day. “I wear Polo Sport, Keith wears Polo Original, Tim wears Nautica, Jon wears Chaps, Steve wears Tommy, Jake wears Cool Water, Andy wears Drakkar and Joel wears Hugo Boss.”
“What about Billy Ahearn?” Blubbo asked.
“Who knows, he probably buys his deorandant at CVS or something.”
“I like Polo Sport.”
“Well that’s too bad, because I wear Polo Sport and you don’t want to be a poser.”
Blubbo met his mom at the Filenes register.
“I’m gonna get Safari.” Blubbo told his mom, handing her the $50 set of deordant, cologne and aftershave.
“Eww, Jay, this stuff smells awful, why don’t you buy the Polo Sport, I like the way that one,” Blubbo’s mom replied.
“Mom! You don’t understand anything! You can’t copy someone else’s cologne! You’re so stupid.”
Blubbo sprayed the Safari several times about the room before leaving for school each morning in the event that he ever had a visitor. On the wall in the corner next to his E-Machine, Blubbo had made a large collage of Cameron Diaz, his long-time crush. Next to that hung his hand drawn Warcraft maps and next to that, a Tom Cruise collage.
After lingering at the top of the stairs for several moments, Blubbo determined the coast was clear and immediately sprung into action. Shutting his bedroom door behind him, Blubbo dashed towards his bed, stubbing his toe on a Super Tennis cartridge. Blubbo flipped over his mattress to reveal a collection of stolen magazines from the mail which included one copy of Fredericks of Hollywood and three copies of Talbots. Removing his clothes, Blubbo flipped all four magazines to their dogeared pages and spread them across the floor so they surrounded him as he sat Indian style in the middle of the floor. In no time, Blubbo was working himself over as he assumed the doggystle position for practice.
“You can put your coats in Jay’s room,” Blubbo’s mom said as she knocked on his door. “Jay are you in here?”
“Uhh, I’m changing Mom don’t come in.”
“OK, we’ll wait.”
Blubbo put his clothes back on and tucked the magazines under his shirt and opened the door.
“Hello Jay, why are you all sweaty?” Blubbo’s grandfather asked.
“Umm, I was doing some crunches.”
“Well that’s probably a good idea. How many can you do?”
“I dunno, a bunch.”
“Well let’s see them, you know your grandfather used to give the PT tests in the Army. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to be a soldier.”
“Well I’d rather not, I just did bunch, and…”
“Aww c’mon, you’re a young lad, I bet you can show me something, let’s see how many you can do in a minute.”
“I’d really rather not…”
“Jay, don’t be rude to your grandfather.”
Blubbo lied on his back.
Blubbo managed 15 crunches in a minute before collapsing on the floor with exhaustion.
“Atta boy, keep practicing,” Blubbo’s granfather said, playfully pretending to punch him in the stomach.
“He what’s this?”
“Nothing! It’s nothing!”
Blubbo tried to conceal the abused magazines and frantically turned away and by doing so flung the magazines out of his waistband, hitting his mom in the face as she came in with more guests with coats.
“Oh there are my magazines,” Blubbo’s mom exclaimed as she opened them automatically to the dogeared pages. “Jay, why Tom Cruise’s face glued on to one of the models?”