Freak

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When I was in High School my main tormentor was not a girl, it was not a relative, it was a short smarmy smart ass that the teachers loved and the cheerleaders loved and his dog probably loved him too.

Had we grown up in the 1950’s his nickname would have been Chip or Champ or Sport, something like that.

So you’d think that this well loved shiny bright young man who was headed for a shiny bright future in the suburbs with a shiny woman waiting for him there named ” Buffy ” ( or something like that )and 3.5 shiny children- would have something far better to do then follow me around with his mob of shiny best friends and ask me things like,

” Why do you have to wear that leather jacket? What are YOU trying to prove. Freak.”

” What is it with you and that black eye liner no one cares what you look like. Freak ”

” Nobody cares about you or your stupid guitar. How’d YOU get into a band? Freak. ”

” Why do YOU ride a motorcycle to school? Freak.”

” You’ll never amount to anything you ugly dog. Freak. ”

It went on and on and one until day I lifted the jerk straight off the ground and gave him a black eye.

The questions stopped and his Shiny friends would curl their shiny lips at me and scuttle away when  we crossed paths at school (or anywhere else)

When I passed him in the halls he’d be mumbling ‘freak’-

of course.

Almost 20 years later I run into the one person at the Grocery Store who seems to know and care about what’s become of our Class. 

She looks up from the Fresh Produce, sees me and practically drops her toddler as she races over to me and starts talking about my Shiny Friend.

He had gone on to get the Shiny Wife and the Shiny Life and all of that got mashed into the rear end of a truck.

 My Shiny friend watched his Shiny Wife die next to him on the car seat and he expired on the way to the hospital calling her name.

” I can’t believe it, ” she cries.

By then I was working in a Funeral Home and I could believe something like this could happen to anybody. Even bright shiny people.

This woman bursts into tears and her kid slides to the floor  ” the world has lost so much.”

I tasted something sour in my mouth and before I could react to it I put on my Funeral Director’s somber thoughtful face and said with concern and dignity, ” It has.”

When she turned away I smiled.

I really did.

What can I say besides-

Freak.

14 thoughts on “Freak

  1. I felt this one (‘cuz I’ve been there too). I keep getting e-mail invites for our 30 year class reunion and I have to ask myself, why do you people (the organizers who were the “shiny ones” in my HS) want me to come? You never gave a flip about me when I was there. You think “oh, we’re all grown up and we’re done with that stupid crap.” Yeah, right. You guys are the doctors and lawyers and shiny wives and I’m still the geeky “arty” one from high school living in a cheap apartment and all you want to do is find that out so you’ll feel sooooo superior about your stupid, shallow, shiny lives.

    Touched a sore point, AM. Good writing.

  2. For me having to write about how I had to force myself not to smile- that was hard to write because who wants to fess up to something like that?

    And then I thought- do it Anita- that’s the little bit of himself that this jerk left in the world.

    Me laughing at his death.

    Wow.

  3. Does it seem to you guys like a lot of us here were outsiders or freaks or not the shiny ones in our schools/work/lives? Does being not-quite-normal (whatever that is) predispose one to writing? Let’s hear from some of the shiny ones out there- anyone? HelloOOOO???

  4. Yes, you did touch a sore point with me too, Anita Marie. I still get nervous when I think about high school. (by the way, Lori, I though all those people who became doctors and lawyers and “successful” things went to my school – except me of course!) I sometimes wonder what happened to them, but I don’t think I want to know at the expense of my own comfort level of them not communicating with me. I still don’t think the shiny people could go by without making comments, even if they are all grown up now and so am I. The thing is, I like my life, and I don’t really care to have it dissed, even if it shouldn’t matter anymore.
    Boy oh boy, Anita Marie, you really opened up a can of worms (rattlesnakes?) with this one!

  5. I think you have to drag those monsters out from under the bed and kick them around every once and awhile.

    That’s why I wrote this.

    I’m not going to let anybody make me disapear- not all the Shiny People in The World can do that-
    not without a fight anyway

    amm

  6. I learned it from Bruce in his “Boomstick Speech”

    Just kidding- sort of-

    You just have to stand up for yourself, not because no one else will but to prove to yourself that you’re worth taking a shot for. Once you realize THAT there’s nothing you won’t be able to do ( or try )

    amm

  7. Pingback: » I Get It Already « Irregular Bones-My 1983

  8. I was going back through all of my old e-mails when I saw this story…wow, it brings back similar memories for me. I’d have a hard time not smiling at that news, either.

    At my 10-year class reunion, all of the shiny people were desperately clinging together as though the rest of us would still infect them with geekiness somehow. The more I think about it, the more absurd they were. The tarnish was showing.

    In a bizarre way, I’m kind of grateful for not being shiny in school. If I was, I’d probably never write or do anything more creative than shopping or figuring out my next elective cosmetic surgery, so I could remain shiny for as long as possible!

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