Tuesday, September 28, 2010
I remember a distinct bully from middle school. Which, I think is agreeably every child's worst experience. There was a bully. Not just to me, of course, there were other kids in the same painful boat. Painful, wooden, hormonally-rocking boat. But I digress. I remember a single distinct incident in which said bully, named Mario... let me stop and tell you about Mario, actually. Mario had always been a symbol of Italian justice in my eyes. He had been ever since I took up my first controller to play as Nintendo's popular Italian plumber platforming title. But this Mario is in no way tantamount to his mustached counterpart. But now I re-digress. This incident occurred on a very important testing day when I had donned my slightly nicer than average clothing. Without warning in what seemed to be one fluid he spit on my pants. Unannounced, without purpose, but with fury. I wanted to just leap from the chair and slug him one right in his un-mustached face, but I knew he would take me like a small deer. A hormonally imbalanced small deer. Well the other day, I caught up with a friend from High school, and she started telling me about how he tries to call her all the time trying to hook up. I, of course, asked why she didn't want to. She says "That's gross! He has like 4 kids and no job, and doesn't even go to school!!" And I wondered.... was this some form of poetic justice. Or just the way the world inevitably works. True it doesn't always work in one's favor, but perhaps karma is real. I think in the end. I won the fight.