Twenty years ago I was 12 years old. I was in 5th grade....I think. I lived in a HUGE subdivision and 90% of the people in our town were wealthy.
Just a year earlier I had moved to this rich town. Actually, I had gone to spend the summer with my grandmother and when I came back home we lived in a different house. What a shock that was. I was expecting to go home and have the only big news be that my dad had become one of the Atlanta Braves. (Before I left for Florida he told me he was thinking about trying out. I believed him! Psht.....my dad didn't have an ounce of athleticism in him......he rode a Harley down the halls of his highschool, but he'd certainly NEVER played any sport).
I wasn't ANYTHING like the kids in this town. I was a little on the chubby side, had a sweet ass boy haircut, didn't give a shit what kinda clothes I was wearing, talked purdy twangy and had no money. My stepdad and mom had moved us to this new town because of the schools. So what if we couldn't afford anything but the house.....barely. So what if kids would point and laugh at us, because we weren't wearing Z. Cavariccis, Guess and Esprit? So what?
My first year there, I was in 4th grade and one of my step brother's was in 5th. Amazingly enough, we both managed to have a shit ton of friends despite that fact that we were absolutely nothing like them.
My brother and I walked to school everyday together and would walk home stopping at the pond on the way to goof off. We'd throw rocks, sit and talk and sometimes push each other in. My mom was never happy when she got home and our clothes were soaked and covered in mud. We were the only kids to ever get in that pond.
When I was in 5th grade, my brother had moved on to middle school. I had to walk to and from school alone. I can remember one day these highschool boys kept driving past me and they'd honk and whistle. Over and over, back and forth, back and forth. I just kept my head down and kept walking, hoping to god I wasn't gonna have to book it in my sandals. They were a size too small, had a strap that was stapled closed and at any moment they were gonna fall to pieces. I made it to the tennis courts and up the hill to the pond. Once I knew they couldn't see me, I took my sandals off and hauled ass home. I didn't stop until I got the the front door.
The next day I dreaded the walk home. I can remember being terrified. I walked on the sidewalk slightly limping with my hands all weird and stiff. Every once in a while I'd do some weird head/eye twitch thing and I was whistling something that bared no resemblance to any song you'd ever heard. I had made myself retarded. Yep retarded. In all my reasoning, I knew that these boys would have nothing to do with a retard. Didn't matter though, I never saw those boys again.
Just a year earlier I had moved to this rich town. Actually, I had gone to spend the summer with my grandmother and when I came back home we lived in a different house. What a shock that was. I was expecting to go home and have the only big news be that my dad had become one of the Atlanta Braves. (Before I left for Florida he told me he was thinking about trying out. I believed him! Psht.....my dad didn't have an ounce of athleticism in him......he rode a Harley down the halls of his highschool, but he'd certainly NEVER played any sport).
I wasn't ANYTHING like the kids in this town. I was a little on the chubby side, had a sweet ass boy haircut, didn't give a shit what kinda clothes I was wearing, talked purdy twangy and had no money. My stepdad and mom had moved us to this new town because of the schools. So what if we couldn't afford anything but the house.....barely. So what if kids would point and laugh at us, because we weren't wearing Z. Cavariccis, Guess and Esprit? So what?
My first year there, I was in 4th grade and one of my step brother's was in 5th. Amazingly enough, we both managed to have a shit ton of friends despite that fact that we were absolutely nothing like them.
My brother and I walked to school everyday together and would walk home stopping at the pond on the way to goof off. We'd throw rocks, sit and talk and sometimes push each other in. My mom was never happy when she got home and our clothes were soaked and covered in mud. We were the only kids to ever get in that pond.
When I was in 5th grade, my brother had moved on to middle school. I had to walk to and from school alone. I can remember one day these highschool boys kept driving past me and they'd honk and whistle. Over and over, back and forth, back and forth. I just kept my head down and kept walking, hoping to god I wasn't gonna have to book it in my sandals. They were a size too small, had a strap that was stapled closed and at any moment they were gonna fall to pieces. I made it to the tennis courts and up the hill to the pond. Once I knew they couldn't see me, I took my sandals off and hauled ass home. I didn't stop until I got the the front door.
The next day I dreaded the walk home. I can remember being terrified. I walked on the sidewalk slightly limping with my hands all weird and stiff. Every once in a while I'd do some weird head/eye twitch thing and I was whistling something that bared no resemblance to any song you'd ever heard. I had made myself retarded. Yep retarded. In all my reasoning, I knew that these boys would have nothing to do with a retard. Didn't matter though, I never saw those boys again.
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