I’m sleeping over at my cousin/best friend Krystal’s house. We’re both probably about 9 or 10. We are allowed to go and rent a movie, and I ran over to my cousin’s mom (also my cousin) with Loverboy in my hand, the classic Patrick Dempsey gigolo movie. She looked dubious but rented it anyway, and we watched it. God help us, we did. The mom was growing increasingly alarmed by all the innuendo, and when it got to the scene where Patrick Dempsey has sex with the Asian lady in some weirdo pseudo-tantric way, she walked over, turned off the TV, and just glared at me. It would be years before I could finish the film, and even now, when it comes on TV, I blush at that sex scene.
I’m having a co-ed party, my first ever. It’s 5th grade, and all boys and girls from my AG class are over, and we’re having a blast. Eating, playing ping-pong, wearing costumes (it was a very unofficial Halloween party). I got to rent a horror movie for the evening, and what did I rent? Flowers in the motherfucking Attic! It looked cool and creepy to me, but my friends and I watched with growing dread as the kids were neglected and mistreated, and the older brother and sister eventually fell in love, consummating their relationship at the end. The confusion in the room that night was palpable, as everyone started thinking about their own siblings, and got grossed out and uncomfortable. I threw one hell of a party.
Sleepover at…I want to say Kristin’s house, 4th grade. The group of girls I hung out with were all in my AG class, and we called ourselves the Sensational Six. We were pretty sensational. We had matching sweatshirts. We were, again, allowed to rent a movie, but by this time everyone should have known that I should not have gotten a sayso in this matter. I persuaded everyone to rent Eddie Murphy Delirious, for god’s sake. We watched it, not getting half the jokes, but laughing our asses off, and doing what probably amounted to super racist impressions of Eddie Murphy the rest of the night. Ok, so this sounds ok, right? Nope. The next morning Kristin’s mother saw what we had rented and was not pleased. She told every single one of our parents what we had rented, and we all got in trouble.
The moral of the story is to please not let me pick out movies in social situations. I will inevitably make it real awkward for everyone.