I went to middle school in Fresno, where the District, in its infinite wisdom, made every middle schooler wear uniforms. So, one day in March I was in the library before school, reading a Mary Higgins Clark mystery (yes, even then I had the reading tastes of a 60-year-old housewife) and rocking the polo/shorts combo. The chair was a somewhat worn, decrepit wicker chair that had wood poking my butt.
Time for class came, and I went to computers and algebra. I put my backpack in the locker in preparation for PE. I walked down the hall, thinking I owned the place.
Then I heard laughing behind me.
And more laughing.
Like 30 or so people laughing at me.
A dude came up to me and said: "Hey Chad, your pants have a massive hole in the butt! They can see your tighty whiteys." So I did the smartest thing I could think of and ran down the hall with my hands covering my butt. Unsuccessfully, of course. I think it just served to draw more attention to me.
I ran into an empty classroom (a sub was there watching things) and grabbed a sweater to cover my massive hole. I then had to go to the office to get a replacement pair of shorts for the day.
What did I learn? Nothing other than to avoid ratty old wicker chairs as they might just ruin my day.
Was this tragic? Yes, it probably scarred me for life.
1 comment:
I love any sort of embarrassing, middle-school story. I truly believe that those are the moments when a sense of humor is born. I don't know anyone awesome who can't, on demand, tell a good "... and everyone was laughing at me and, frankly, I can't blame them" story.
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