Storytime

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It’s the middle of the night and I can’t sleep. I’m in pain and I can’t get comfortable. I’m done with shopping, so I might as well tell a story!

 

When I was in junior high, about grade seven or eight, so about age twelve or thirteen, our science class went on a field trip to someone’s house, I think. It was way, far out on some property, and had some large area for us to hang out.

Now, at that age, I must have been closer to thirteen, I was a swimmer, with developed muscles. They showed because I was so thin. I didn’t eat much. Probably because of the stomach problems that would plague me all my life. I’m about 5’8″ and yeah, I developed early, but I was told I did not have the largest breasts in our class (even though I did) so I knew I hid them well.

Our science teacher was tall, bearded and had rank breath and b.o. He looked rather like a Siamese cat walking on two legs. He had the unfortunate moniker of Mr. Blando.

Most of the kids stayed inside and watched Rock n Roll High School. A classic even then. But we stayed outside and lay on the blankets and blasted Prince’s Controversy, because I was the biggest Prince fan going. We wore our bathing suits, trying in vain to get a tan.

On the way inside, Mr. Blando crooked his finger and motioned me over. He took me aside and told me that ‘people’ were discussing how amazing my body was and how they didn’t realize what I had kept hidden. He went on for what seemed like hours, but what may have been ten minutes. I think my soul left my body.

I just stood there in my stupid bathing suit, which was fairly modest, and a mesh shirt.

It’s probably why I hate mesh to this day.

 

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