1, 2 Buckle My...Seatbelt

Mike Leibowitz was better known as G-d’s gift to my elementary school carpool. He was just my type: older, blond, blue eyes and for a long while, I thought he was smart. Unfortunately for Mike, it would have seemed more than odd for him to be attracted to me at age seven while he was 15. I, on the other hand, saw nothing wrong with our passion for each other. (I was cute as a button…minus the uncontrollable, wild, Jewish curls.)

It never stopped me from tempting him in carpool with my delightful charm. As my mom’s huge, obnoxiously embarrassing, white, pedophile minivan pulled through the pick-up line each day at school, I was the first to hop in. (I was always hoping Mike would scooch up close to me.)

I plopped myself in the middle backseat and dumbed myself down by reciting these words almost every time: Mikey-poo, will you buckle my seatbelt? Of course I knew how to buckle my seatbelt. (I should have seen the signs of his unintelligence then. A seven-year-old should never have to dumb down for a 15-year-old.)

The next year, dear ole Mikey-poo started working at Superfoods, the super market a few blocks away from our houses. As my mom, my sister (who was Mikey-poo’s age) and I entered into the checkout line where he was the bag boy, I began to fake sneeze, literally making the sounds “ah” and “choo.” (I was starved for attention from him as you may have already guessed and this was my last resort.)

I can still hear those biting words he spoke to my sister, “Is there something wrong with her?”

At that point I stopped my fake sneezing, which was adorable, and continued my search for another NJB. All I have to say is: Mike, there ain’t nothing wrong with this NJG, you dummy!