Quote: (07-05-2017 08:06 PM)BortimusPrime Wrote:
I think you went to a more exciting high school than I did.
Nah... more likely these types of people were there, but far outside the healthy minds sphere of interests and attention other than as a passing, dismissive joke.
The problem is a passing joke - soon forgotten, to a healthy mind, becomes a bitter and dysfunctional mind's foundational experience:
One day, I will make you sorry you mocked me.
I remember running into a woman ahead of me in line at a supermarket in Melbourne a few years back, far from the city we both grew up in. She recognised me, then immediately launched into a tumble of words, saying that she hadn't seen me for 30 years, and going on at great length about her life and her job, (which I guess registered as High Status and Important to her but I wasn't interested in enough to be able to tell you what she did even five minutes later).
Meanwhile, I'd just give polite, short nods of faux-interest in the moments she'd take a breath.
Then she mentioned looking me up on Facebook recently, sending me a friend request, and then being annoyed that I didn't accept it. "This is just like that time in Year 8 when I asked you out, and you said you weren't interested...
...and here came the sourness...
..."Well, just look at me now and
what you missed out on."
She snatched her grocery bag and walked out, the bored checkout chick sneering at her departure, most likely thinking "Get over yourself Lady". The rest of the line didn't burst into spontaneous applause. No-one turned bright red after being shamed by a woke eight-year-old. It was just a sad and awkward display that made everyone a little uncomfortable, (except for me, because I love as boring and predictable an experience as checking out groceries that I've done a thousand times before suddenly becoming unpredictable, awkward and dysfunctional).
The kicker was:
I had no idea who I was talking to. She obviously knew my name, but... no familiarity, no recall, no nostalgia, no sense memory. Zip. Zilch.
I can remember the name of the first girl I kissed and where and when it happened, (her house, under the balcony of her parent's bedroom, hidden by the pampas grass).
I can remember the name, and the location of the first time I saw up a girl's skirt, back when girls wore dresses and skirts I was lying on the grass next to a mini trampoline, she kept running at it then jumping over me, pulling up her skirt each time. Green underwear. Frilly. A turtle on the front.
I can remember the names of the two girls fighting over me at a sixth grade Christmas party about how was going to 'go with me', and I resolved the issue by saying they both could have me and they agreed. Hell, I even remember telling the story at dinner that night: Mum looking annoyed, Dad being "That's my boy!"
But this woman in the supermarket? Nothing.
I either recently-wrote up a post about finding old school pictures for a thread agreeing with Rudebwoy, and how thin girls used to be on average, thought I'm not entirely-sure I posted it. I was showing these pictures to the girl I was dating at the time and was going to point out "Oh, and this girl attacked me in a supermarket a few years back because apparently I didn't want to
go with her."
The thing was, I never told her that story, because, even looking at the class picture of the entire year, I never identified her.
This woman carried some grudge against me for over thirty years, and just had to take her resentment out on me.
As for me? I still have no idea who the fuck she was.
This is the Media. They're taking out their childhood grudges. They've formed their little, toxic 'Massacre at Central High' replacement cool cliques with the other damaged kids where they get to be the bullies. If you want them triggered, let's find out who ate paste or picked their nose, or 'smelled funny' or who begged with the teacher to go to the toilet only for her flow of urine to waterfall over the chair and spread across the floors to the mass squeak of chair legs on wood as everyone around her recoiled in horror.
Who was the kid who cried hysterically in front of the entire class because they were terrified by the Opera Singing Orange on Sesame Street and had to go to the school nurse to calm down? Who was the kid who poohed themselves on the school excursion and refused to slide down the slippery dip at the end of the trail until the teacher bullied them into it, mooshing it everywhere and leaving a trail behind them that no-one wanted to slide down, requiring the emptying of canteens, and no-one wanted to sit near them pathetically-holding their underwear in a brown paper bag on the bus?
Who was the girl who danced like Kate Bush after being struck-violently about the head, and sang a corny television theme song a cappella in front of the entire school at the end of year talent show, that was so mortifying to watch that everyone was simultaneously-embarrassed
for her and embarrassed
to be watching her, but it only took one person to start laughing, and, well, then
everyone laughed. Even the parents. The Principal came out, all faux serious, saying "Well, at least she
tried, but then lost it. Fuck, even I'm still squirming in my seat remembering. (I once dated a girl who was in Kindergarten when I was in Year 6, and she was . I told her that story. The blood drained from her face. "Oh no, I remember that, and I was only
tiny. That was the single most embarrassing thing I've ever seen in my life, and I once saw my mother-in-law throw the Christmas Turkey at my ex-husband's head").
I guarantee there are School Legends about every Cunt in the Media. They're dysfunctional by nature. Show me the child at seven...
People just need to dig.