And Another One

Here is my reflections essay.

I talked to Adam about who the weird looking guy was from his last post, and we figured out who it was. I, also, being in the same grade and Japanese class as my two fellow bloggers, knew that guy. His name was Scott.

Once we left junior high, we split into two high schools. Adaham, hot.pork, and I, all went to the same one, and Scott went to the other. But the Japanese classes for both high schools would sometimes go on combined field trips together, where everyone would get to reunite with people they used to hang out with, and, perhaps, still did. For me, it was a chance to try to kind of ignore people that remembered me when I was going through a period in my life in which I was a dick to everyone, and was probably the least happy I'd ever been. Maybe 2nd least happy.

Anyway, on one of these trips, somehow Scott and I ended up in a conversation, and he, apparently just as unhappy to be talking to me as I was to him, said "I remember you! You made my life a living hell!" in an upset tone.

Now, I never really considered myself a bully. I always thought of bullies as more physically violent than I was, and I kind of assumed that, since I thought the mean things I said were funny, (though perhaps too incisive for junior high), I wasn't a bully, but just a social critic ahead of my time. Or something. Obviously, not everyone saw it that way, and that's probably what matters more; Adolf Hitler isn't the one who decides he was a monster, is he?

So, yeah, I probably was a bully. But not to this guy. The worst I ever did to him was throw pens and pencils at him from across the room during class, which, by the way, he threw right back at me. As far as I could tell (since we were both kind of chuckling, and using notebook shields), it was more of a game, partially for our own amusement, and partially to piss off the Japanese teacher (so, I guess, completely for our own amusement). Ironically, if I was a bully to anyone, it was the people I considered my friends. Which is really unfortunate and embarrassing, and it was really nice of them to stick around.

The point, though, of this blog, was not to apologize for being a dick, or to cry about how great my friends were/are. (I mean, really. Gay.) The point is: that Scott guy was fucking weird looking.

Like Ryan Styles.