I had a terrible mixture of smaller than average stature mixed with
larger than average smartassery. I was helpless to stop myself from
saying something funny but cutting and personal, I was also helpless
to stop the almost inevitable beat down that would follow. There was
one kid who was a bit of a stoner that had big fluffy butt-rock band
hair and wore ripped out pants over tights both looks that were
inexplicable manly in the late 80's. He was actually really cool and
one of the only kids who I got along with really well but one day at
recess I was teasing him about the way he was playing basketball and
even went so far as to comically mimic his dribble and jump with
exaggerated motions. All undeniably funny, to everyone but him.
Everyone was laughing and I was riding high when Dustin pushed me
hard on the shoulder and spun me around. He started asking if I
thought I was funny, I did but I thought his question may be on the
accusatory end of the rhetorical scale so I decided to say something
tough. I went with a whiny borderline crying, 'Hey man, just leave me
alone, okay.' Admittedly not a line that Clint Eastwood might use but
he had the benefit of writers. I did all of my own material and my
scared to death ready to cry material was not my 'A' stuff. I Backed
up over and over across the whole parking lot that passed for our
playground and he kept pushing me hard on the shoulders. Finally, he
punched me hard in the guts and I crumpled into the bushes crying.
The bell rang and everyone went back to class but I went in the
furthest doors from the middle school hall and hid in the gym
bathroom until I could stop crying and rinse my face enough to cover
up my flushed face and tear streaks. It wouldn't have mattered
everyone already knew that I got beat up and I cried. A kid named
David, that sat by me in my next class that I came late to on account
of the get-it-together-time I had spent in the bathroom, asked me why
I cried like a pussy when Dustin punched me. There was no more
popular kid in school than David and I wanted to save some face if I
could, so I told him that I was crying because when Dustin punched me
I tripped and I fell into the bushes and a stick poked right into my
ear. My reasoning was even a non-pussy would cry if he was poked in
the ear. That is not how young master David saw it and thought that
was funny too, I cried because I got punched and a stick poked me, ha
ha ha. Perhaps the greatest irony here is that David was a frail
little wiener of a kid that had not one ounce of manliness and he was
taking me to task for crying. Dustin was not mad at me and felt sorry
for making me cry and embarrassing me so he was extra nice to me for
the next couple of days. We stayed school friends for the next couple
of years and never fought again. He moved away or dropped out I don't know which, they both seem equally plausible and both may have happened.
