Medium Harris

My English class is having a worst narrative contest tomorrow. Last time we met, we were taught what not to do in a personal narrative. This includes but is not limited to:

• Lie
• Fail to elicit an emotional reaction
• Fail to be self-aware
• Fail to stay "in-scene"
• Fail to include sensory detail
• Fail to have a point
• Fail to have a good beginning
• Use cliche topics or phrases
• Be too bound to chronology
• Use word padding (excessive words)

Here is my bad narrative (written past midnight to enhance the effect...I might regret this tomorrow).

One Very Bad Narrative

What I did over my summer vacation was that I got my first job, my first mode of transportation, and my first girlfriend. The very first thing I did upon leaving school on the last day when it was over was to go home. The next day, I decided that I needed a job. I checked online for ideas, but most of the good websites wanted me to register before I could search for jobs. So I gave up and began to check my email. There was an ad on the side of my webpage for a "secret shopper" position. That sounded cool! So I waited for my dad to get home from his office in Washington D.C. He's the President. So when he got home I asked him to get me a job as a secret shopper. He also gave me a private jet so I could get to work and back more efficiently. I was happy as a clam. When I got to work I found out that I got to buy things at places and fill out forms about the kind of service I received. The best part was that I didn't have to use my own money! So I liked this job. One day, while I was "secret shopping" for a new kitchen sink, I met this girl who became my girlfriend later. Normally I just bought stuff with my company's money and didn't bother to fill out the evaluation forms, but this time I said everything was "excellen"” because she was the salesperson. She asked me if I wanted to upgrade to the chrome fixture for only five more dollars, and I jumped on the offer like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat. I knew we were meant to be together. I shopped there a lot because she was there, then one day I finally got the courage to talk to her. I asked if she wanted me to fly her home to meet my parents. I think she really wanted to go, but something always came up and she never got around to accepting my offer. I came back to shop there three times a day so I would be around if she ever said yes. Then one day I couldn't find her -- —she wasn't even in the dumpster out back where she would usually hide. I asked Jerry who works with her where she was, and he said she quit. Some people will never commit to a relationship. Soon after this experience, I found out that my dad wasn't really the President of the United States and that he had been lying to my family for years. It turns out he has an obsession for maxing maxing out credit cards and wanted to hide it from us by acting like he was President. He sure pulled the wool over our eyes. It was the best summer of my life.

Caution: This narrative is completely made up. Do not look for meaning anywhere within the stilted wording of this text.