Posted by: robinsonwarner | October 21, 2009

Believe Me, It Does

Remember those girls in high school?  They were usually fairly attractive, came from money and were insufferably mean to everyone unless they needed something.  And on top of all of that, they could get guys to do anything they wanted.  I know this guy who let a girl copy his chemistry homework for an entire year because he believes women operate on a system of merit.  Foolish me… I mean… foolish guy who I certainly wouldn’t associate with.  If something like this was happening in Salem a few centuries ago we would be burning high school girls at the stake like hot cakes.  Hot girls probably look something like this:


We all know why these girls were able to manipulate men into doing what they want.  It’s because men are particularly weak willed when it comes to a pretty face, and especially a really pretty face.  That’s not what I’d like to focus on though.  I’m more curious as to why these girls were so mean; and to everyone.  What was bothering these girls so much that they had to turn their nose up to 99% of the people at high school?  And secondly, why was the group of mean people so close knit?

As social castes go, these girls are used to always doing the right thing, very rarely feeling awkward in their own skin (more importantly never showing it), and generally seeming comfortable with who they are.  The cause for this behavior is a steady stream of positive reinforcement about their physical looks and social savvy.   But what you don’t know, and I didn’t know until recently, is that despite popular science’s belief, the Popular Girls at your high school held a deep, dark secret.  They had to poop; just like you and me.

I know it sounds crazy.  Believe me it sounds nuts to type out, but I believe that these girls were so concerned with their physical appearance and maintaining their social exclusivity that no one had a talk with them before high school about pooping.  Oh sure, they pooped in junior high, but that was when they were still wearing l.e.i. jeans and shopping at the Limited Too store.  Anyone who is anyone in high school stops pooping and immediately wears as much Gucci shit as possible.  Or at least that’s what they thought.  No one had ever told them otherwise.

 And they had to do it every day in high school but were embarrassed about it.  “What’s wrong with me?”  they would speculate in their heart of hearts.  I thought I would stop pooping in high school.  It’s so juvenile! 

So there would be a group of attractive, pretty, well to do young women who have known each other since they were young girls.  And they would talk about their problems or their insecurities and laugh about how they were so funny because of course they weren’t insecure about anything.  But one day a girl would crack.  Let’s call her Janet.  Janet would break down to her friends that she’d been pooping for three whole months and didn’t know what to do.  Her friends gasped at first, shifted their weight and told her she needed to stop, but another girl, let’s call her Gwen, caved and admitted she had been pooping too.  Eventually they would all admit they were pooping, had a good cry, watched Now and Then, and polished off a pint of Ben and Jerry’s before heading to bed (ironically, they all had to poop in the middle of the night because of the massive dairy intake).  In the morning they made a pact they could not let anyone else into their group of friends lest they find out about their unfortunate pooping proclivities.  Controlling information was the name of the game.

There they would be on Monday morning, scowling away at people under the guise of social elitism and scowling away because they were really holding in a massive deuce after burrito night.  And the plan worked perfectly to keep everyone away.  God, those girls are so bitchy!

But what if someone outside the approved list of members found out about this whole pooping thing?  How could they handle it?  There were only two options in this case: 

1) Kill the outsider.

2) Let her in the group.

Because people who are attractive in their youth often are used to having things done for them, they wouldn’t have the fortitude to take another human life.  So they would let the girl in the group to prevent the spread of information.  You would usually see no more than one addition at a time.  This usually involved emergencies at school where one of the Popular Girls didn’t have anyone to watch the bathroom door while they made an emergency deposit.  A popular girl would walk out of the stall, thanking their lucky stars that they had decided to make an Evil Knievil and there someone different would be, an outsider who had witnessed the aftermath of one the most unholy of unholies:  pooping at school. 

The Popular Girls would call the Holy High Council of Hotness which usually involves sacrificing a nerd to Moloch down by the Abyss of Unyielding Tears which was located next to the Chasm of Irreversible Hiccups.  After the sacrifice, they would debate the merits of letting another into the group and discuss the likelihood of the Outsider telling people about the Deep Dark Secret.

The Outsider will then be brought into the social group by The Popular Girls (pending an affirmative vote from the council).  It is at this point that a girl of high character will refuse the advances and someone with low self esteem and and impeccable timing will join.  If you were invited and decided not to join the Popular Girls would generally engage in a fairly ruthless smear campaign by calling that girl a slut.  Calling a girl a slut in high school is like linking them to Watergate:  no matter what they say from here on out, there’s always a doubt.  And no one actually bothers to check if the girl’s a slut.  It’s like the most powerful word you can use in high school when trying to discredit someone.  It’s second only to “Dungeons and Dragons”.

And so it goes all across the country.  Year after year, Popular Girls with constantly expanding and contracting ranks, are catty to everyone else because no one has told them that it’s all right to poop.  For the safety of this privileged information, they must keep everyone at arm’s length.  They don’t know how to deal with the fact that they too poop, and they flush it so quickly out of shame that the silver lining to them is that they believe it doesn’t stink, but believe me, it does.

So the next time you see those girls from your high school when you make an obligatory appearance at a local bar where you grew up, go up to them and say, “It’s all right.  Just let go.”  You’ll usually see a single tear make its way down their cheek by the end of the evening and another angel gets its wings.


  1. Awesome. I feel so guilty, now, for harboring so much resentment for these girls. It all makes sense. Thanks, Robinson!

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