The solitary ugly girl always found with a group of hotties. If the grenade doesn’t get any action, then neither does anyone else. In other words, someone’s going to have to take the hit and get it on with the grenade. Take one for the team, so to speak. You can’t just expect to get with a hottie every night.
Ladies stick together. They’re all about the solidarity among the sisters. Don’t fuck with that. If you go up to the hottest chick there, you’re likely to lose. If you and your friends go over to a group of chicks and chat up all the hot ones, leaving the ugly one to herself, none of you are getting any action. It’s just a fact. But if you go up there and ignore the hotties and start talking with the one with zits and a big nose and bad fashion sense and greasy hair, all the other perfectly groomed, gorgeous chicks are going to be all over you. You’ve proved yourself to be a total sweetheart, a hot dude who’s sensitive and will talk to any girl and is truly interested in what she has to say.
I should know, I grew up as one of the grenades amongst my click of incredibly beautiful high school girls. We weren’t the most popular, but we were cool and people respected us. We were rebels and some of the girls in our group went all punk and Goth and most of us were alternative and played hacky sack and skipped class to get high in the park across the street. When Tash was the first one of us to have her own car, (a baby blue vulvo), we’d all pile in and drive to her place stopping for slurpees along the way and pouring vodka into them. Everyone in the group was skinny and beautiful and I was neither of those things. I had glasses that were too big for my face and zits and I couldn’t seem to dress cool enough to be interesting or hot enough to be attractive. One of the only guys I pursued in high school came over to talk to me at my locker for the first time and I was thrilled – until I realized he had only come over to find out if I thought Tash would go out with him. Beautiful orange-haired Tash with her dancer’s body and her soft freckled skin. She was perfect. Everyone wanted to be her best friend and be her and sleep with her, all at the same time.
For years I felt like the ugly one out of my group of friends. It is only now when I look back on photos of that time that I realize I was pretty. And cool. I had my own style. I was moving towards being a writer and I had a pretty wicked dark side. Also, I didn’t know how to ‘look’ cool so I ended up just looking like a human, and that ended up being a good thing. So many pictures of my friends looking like posed models, trying to dig up a good pout. And then me, smiling at the camera.
1. That chick’s the grenade. You’ve got to bang her before any of her friends will even consider letting you near them.
2. I fucked the grenade once. Man she was the best lay I’ve ever had. Those perfect girls never fuck for shit. They just rely on their looks. The uglies…well, they work for it.
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