I feel the need to tell an embarassing and not-so-interesting story today. So here goes.

I was in 8th grade band. I play sax. Apparently I was hella good because they invited me (along with another dude) to be in the high school jazz band. Later on I find out that they simply didn't have enough saxes to go to competition but let's not think about it that way.

So they ask us, we say yes and practice and practice la la la. We go to fiestival (by the way, i'm telling this story because i'm wearing my fiestival t-shirt) which is a music competition for high school concert,symphonic,marching, and jazz bands and indoor drumlines. It's in Orlando Florida this particular year. It was hell. We get stuck in Savanna, Georgia twice (on the way down and on the way back)for hours each time. But on the way there is where our story takes place. So we get stuck, our bus (there is 2 buses and the bus im on always breaks down) breaks down. We stop at the McDonalds/gas station thingy for breakfast and to dick around and play hacky sack for 3 hours. And we do all these things. Now being one of like 2 8th graders on a high school trip, people to hang out with were limited, so the really nerdy, geeky, and unpopular boys were the people I hung out with. When hangin out with these boys, something tragic happened. We're all standing in the gas station area, just chilling, talkin whatnot. And since it's like a tourist thing, they have little trinkets that say georgia on them, and things of this nature. The shelf we happened to be standing next to was filled with lil Jesus statues. He was doing the big arms thing and it was a very holy little shelf of Jesus'. One boy, who we shall call "mike" come up behind me and pushes me. Fun, not. He knocks me straight into the Jesus shelf, causing one of the Jesus' to fall to his tragic death on the floor in the middle of our circle. Of course, they all blame me. So, I pick up little jesus and notice that both his arms are broken off and his nose broken off. I take all his remains and take them up to the counter to pay for them because I am in 8th grade and now I'm crying. The clerk laughs at me. I then place little dead Jesus in a Mcdonalds bag, we say the Lord's prayer, and put him in the trash can outside. I have never felt like more of a terrible sinful person in my whole life. To this day it haunts me, and I never hear the end of it. But it was kinda funny.

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