Taxed! – Condemnation

Friday, November 18, 2005

There’s a new Here’s the Thing… up. I have one more planned for early December and then no more until next year. If all goes according to plan next year might start a new direction for the Here’s the Thing… columns or may just see the launch of a new column all together, likely not on the DCC Blog if that’s the case.

Story time…

Hand me my sentence
I’ll show no repentance
I’ll suffer with pride
-Depeche Mode

The only thing worse than being caught stealing is being falsely accused. Usually the people who accuse you are not top-notch investigators, their evidence is usually circumstantial at best, but they have it in your head that you are to blame and you’re the one left suffering the consequences.

Like this one time in Junior High, when I first met Lorraine, a girl who would later become my friend. This was early at the start of Junior High, had to be first or second week. I’ve gotten by without any big-time beatings, a few minor embarrassments here and there but for the most part I was getting lucky – no big punches, I wasn’t sporting any bruises or gashes.

We were sitting in the lunchroom when this kid Alfred jokingly jacked Lorraine’s biology text book, ran over to me and dropped it on my lap. She saw the whole thing unfold before her eyes, she knew the kid was just joking around – she had to know. She had to know I was in no way tied to this nefarious plot, I was an innocent victim.

She comes up to me; left hand on her hip, right arm outstretched and tells me to give me her book back. Now, I’m as confused as anyone would be in this situation and, as innocently as possible I pick the book up and ask her, “Is this your book?”

You know how, if you’re in prison, it’s supposedly a good move to jack up the first person who makes a move on you? At least that’s what Hollywood teaches you. But you know what I mean, right? Because Lorraine must have believed this as well.

The bitch SCRATCHES my FACE. I’m not talking about an “I had an itch” scratch. I’m talking about digging her nails into my cheek and pulling as hard as she can, taking my fucking flesh off. I was stunned, to say the least – I put my hand up to my cheek as she ran off with her book, pulled it away and there was blood all over it. My friends are looking at me in shock, Alfred comes over and apologizes and I get up, weak kneed, and walk to the school nurse looking like I got into fight with a fucking wolverine.

I walked around with those gashes for a couple of weeks before they healed.

I go home and my mom is upset, I had to tell them the story of what happened and my pops had to cope with the fact that I got fucked up by a girl. As mentioned, Lorraine ended up becoming my friend but she was always embarrassed to come over to my place because of the whole “scratching my face off” thing.


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