Pond Time is Not Funny

 After my poster debacle I was hanging around with my jerk friends by a small pond that was on the north-west corner of the park. I at the time had assumed I was just out with a regular set of friends and didn't even think that they might be of the massive butt-hole variety. I was chatting up some ladies that were there by the pond and one of my less debonaire friends was shy and jealous and decided to shut up my girl talking with hard hit. His malformed instinct was to accost me physically because besides being shy he was decidedly on the dim side. So there I was, all oblivious to the machinations of his cromagnan mind and mid witticism – Blamo! He tackled me full force into the pond and I was engulfed in stinky pond water before I even knew what had happened. I tried a couple of times to right myself on the slippery ground which made the scene even more entertaining for my jack-knob friend. I asked him why exactly in the hell he had just done that, trying my very best to keep the pre-cry wavers out of my voice. I was mad that I was wet and in a pond of course but I was really embarrassed to have been abused in front of some girls. He was bully laughing in that forced and mightily irritating way they must have in a bully handbook somewhere based on it cross cultural ubiquity. He told me it was to teach me a lesson for always talking to girls. I didn't really understand what that meant but I called him all sort of swear laden names to try and regain some of my dignity. I was soaked through in my peacocking clothes which diminishes their effectivity somewhat in the eyes of women who like there men dry and clean and not smelling like fetid stinky swamp water. I was furious and soggy and trapped because I had actually gotten a ride to the fair with one of my joker friends and I was forced to drip dry until they decided it was time to go. It was hours later when all but my crotch,which is always the last place to dry out in these situations, had dried and my ride decided it was time to saddle up and roll out. The kid who had pushed me in asked if I was still mad in a tone that indicated he wasn't sorry and I told him that I was indeed pissed off. He told me to let it go because it was just a joke. I told him to get bent. We rode home in near silence and I never went out anywhere with that friend again. I have since run into him and we are friendly enough but I think if I were to see him standing by a pond I may still have twinge of retribution in my heart.