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False Absolution

A Good Pair of Jeans



These days parents have this phobia about letting their children handle any responsibility, for example, take my friend, Ned. His parents don't even let him keep a pen of his own, and I'm pissed off because he takes my pens to write!!! He tells me everyday, "I wish I had something to take care of..." and "Oh Jeff, could you lend me your things for safekeeping?". 

And the type of smart guy I am, I already have a responsibility: Keep my things away from Ned. Okay, maybe Ned isn't even capable of it, but how can we be sure without even trying? And even if he isn't capable enough, why do I have to suffer? So, when he came to my house for another shot at convincing me to allow him to keep my things for the day, I told him to ask his parents to give him one chance of proving himself.
And guess what, they did.

After an hour or so, an 'earnest' Ned showed up at my door, house keys sticking out of his mouth.
I had to tell him how stupid and daft that was, but he was stubborn. So, we came down to an agreement of him keeping the keys in his pocket (as if that was not what a normal person would do).
But, you too know that (for Ned) this was too good to be true. There is always (not really) the calm before the storm. 
And right I was.

But, in this case, things weren't actually like a storm. All that happened was that when we were at a pizzeria, giving an order of a type of pizza that would make Ned need bigger clothes, he realised that his pocket was empty. He started jumping and running around like an untameable animal. Man, he really knew how to draw attention. He only calmed down when I promised to help him. And thats when it hit me. Ned's parents could not trust him with a pen. They couldn't even trust him with a good pair of jeans!!!
 And there was a big enough hole in his trousers for my proof.

We retraced our steps from my house to the pizzeria. This was the first time Ned had ever been looking for something, as he never had anything before!!! As we treaded towards my house, we found the keys, lying with utmost respect in the middle of the sidewalk.

I thought my job was done. Ned must've returned home with the keys. At least his parents didn't know that I was the one who helped him (#wink). I decided to award myself with a cup of tea.
Just as I was about to do so, the doorbell rang. I walked towards the door, grumpily. 
And, it was Ned.

"Thanks Jeff! Now my parents totally trust me (with a pen)!", he exclaimed.
"That's cool dude. Why did you come here then?", I replied, stressing on the 'here' part.
"Oh, um, I want you to have this.", he said, pulling out his house keys.
"But why would I need (or take) that?", I asked, totally puzzled.
"You will, for safekeeping of course."
"Dude, your parents trust you now! You could do that too."
"But, you at least have a good pair of jeans."
Suppressing a laugh, I grabbed the keys and sent the boy on his way home...hoping that he'd remember where it was.


Comments

  1. very creative.
    and a lesson too....I just put my hands in my trouser pockets and checked for holes

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I hope you found none!
      Thanks for reading!!

      Delete
  2. Hilarious!! 😂

    (Stumbled across this recently and just can't get used to the fact that this amazing piece of work was by your younger self!)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. 😂 Thank you! I hope you liked it :D

      Delete
  3. This story is a trainwreck dressed up as comedy, it’s not funny, it’s not clever, and it’s barely readable. The writing is bloated with pointless asides and exclamation marks, like you’re desperately shaking the reader and screaming, “Laugh! Please laugh!” but no one is laughing. The narrator is an insufferable, smug bore, and Ned is written as such an unbelievably idiotic caricature that he makes cartoon sidekicks look like Nobel laureates. The “plot” is non-existent—it’s literally about losing keys, finding them, and then tossing in a limp excuse of a punchline so bad it feels like you gave up halfway. The ending?

    Pathetic.

    “Good pair of jeans” as your big joke? That’s not wit, that’s something a 12-year-old would come up with when they think they’re being clever. Honestly, this reads less like a story and more like a rambling diary entry from someone who wants to be funny but doesn’t know how to write or edit. It’s lazy, cringe, and painful to get through—and the only real “responsibility” here is mine for actually finishing it without throwing my eyes out the window.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, truly and deeply, for taking the time to share such thoughtful and honest feedback on my story. Your words were not merely remarks upon my screen, but akin to lanterns in the dark, illuminating flaws I had not seen and areas where I could definitely use some improvement.

      What you have offered is no simple critique, but a gift of insight that will serve me well beyond this one post.

      So once more, with gratitude that cannot easily be measured: thank you. In times like these, I'm reminded that reviews like yours are truly treasure!

      Delete

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