Yo, look at that dude hanging up there... creepy!
I was in third grade when
my mother decided to enroll me into Catholic school. Moved around
from CT to SD and back again, we moved into a low-rent apartment in a
small town by Bridgeport after my father left us for his brother's
wife. (Another fucked up story for a later time.)
Times were tough with mom
left to raise two young children alone. Although we didn't live in a
“bad” part of town, for some reason, my mother didn't want me to
mingle with other “poor” kids. She forgot her Bridgeport
roots. Can you say denial?
exactly
So, what did she do?
Naturally, she enrolled me
into the parochial school across town, in the North end.
I was the only kid of a
divorced family, the others' had remarried, and therefor were exempt
from the automatic shame that befell my little head. Child of
divorce- GASP! Here we were, on housing assistance, getting food
assistance and such, and I was in school with the wealthiest kids in
town.
Fuck me.
Future Fuckwad of America
The day after Christmas
break ended was the worst. The fucking penguins would actually go up
and down rows asking each kid what gifts
they got for the holidays. Like they earned it or some shit. I
dreaded that day.
Jason got a boom box and
an Atari ™ system and this and that, beaming as he shared. Gloating
fucker. Tracey got another Barbie Dream Castle ™ and a record
player and 11 albums. Twat. Paul got a new 23” TV set and G.I. Joe
gun play-set. Show-off.
Oh shit,
don't call on me. Oh shit, don't call on me. Please don't call on me.
Eeekkkk!!!
Penguin: Ms. H.
Me: Yup.
Penguin: It's
YES, not yup. What are you, in prison?
{What
the fuck was that bitch even talking about???}
Me: Pass.
Penguin: You
cannot pass! I asked you a question!
Oh I passed alright. I
passed gas.
I tooted aloud, right then
and there, out of nervousness- and ran off to the girl's bathroom,
mortified.
That
was just the beginning.
The entire student body
had to go to mass every Friday morning. To cleanse our original sin
or some shit. Something about that unnatural sin idea bugged
me right the fuck out. Or perhaps it was the cold sterile slate and
wooden church we sat in all lined up in pews that was so odd to me.
But inevitably, when we were supposed to be praying, kneeling on
those archaic wooden thingies, I got the heebie-jeebies.
Jesus is watching.
Oh crap, what did I do
now???
It wasn't bad enough that
the eyes of my all-seeing mom were constantly on me, be she there or
not, but now this omnipotent motherfucker was oogling me too. I was
doomed. I farted. So what?!? Sometimes it was audible and funny,
other times, not so much... I had to blame that smelly kid, R.
because everyone blamed him for any grossness. Poor fucker!
P.S.
I'm sorry R.!
Seriously, I was a mess
when I had to do my first confession. I mean other than Jeffrey
Dahmer ™ types and other shitheads who are cruel to animals, what
the hell does an eight year old have to confess?
Exactly.
So what did I do? I made
shit up.
And maybe passed a
squeaker or two.
You're welcome Father!
Nervousness =
Tooting.
Fast forward to not so
long ago. I was taking some rad anatomy and physiology classes and
had this sexy ex-dancer-turned-professor for my instructor. Dang he
was hot! The day of the final exam, he pulled us aside two at a time
and asked us A&P questions, using one person as the body/example
and the other person naming muscular functions and stuff, as he
pointed to them and moved their limbs and shit.
I was both farty and
sweaty. I couldn't talk. The poor chick who was my partner was
embarrassed for me. Fuck her.
1] it was my final exam
&
2] he made me nervous
in the tingly way.
I had so many colorful
naughty thoughts about Mr. Sexy pants. So many flexible poses ran
through my mind. Did I mention his being a dancer? Not a stripper, a
modern dancer. Yum!
Needless to say, that day
was not a pretty moment in my career as a student.
Regardless, I still got an A.
It's nice to know I leave a lasting impression on people. Some more than others, obviously.