A belated response

So I was reading over at Pseudo's House the other day, and her post about guilt got me to thinking (not necessarily about guilt, but about how things stick with you).

As a kid, I was pretty meek and mild, didn't really say shit - even if I had a mouthful. I remember telling Joanne S that her legs were really fat one time in the pool, but other than that, I can't remember much. I'm sure she remembers that though. It's amazing how something that is said or done, years later you remember it so clearly, but the person that said it has no recollection - or vice-versa.

My sister a couple of years ago ran into this guy John M who asked how I was doing, and then asked if I still hated him. He remembered that every time he saw me around the small town that we grew up in, I would scream "ASSHOLE" across the street at him and he never knew why (OK, so at some point I found my voice lol). My sister is relaying this to me and I start laughing, remembering vaguely doing this. He remembers it clear as day. Not me. What I do remember, however, is him sitting behind the junior high one day as I was passing through with a couple of girlfriends and him telling me that I was "so ugly that I'd turn any man gay". Nice thing to say to an overweight teenager that had self-image issues to begin with. My response? The first thing I could think of. I told him that he was ugly enough to turn a gay man straight and kept walking.

And called him "Asshole" every chance I could after that. So there. John? You were an asshole. And I just felt it my duty to remind you. Even if it was screaming it at you across the square. I can only hope that you grew up to be a kinder and more compassionate man than you were a teenager.

Next post? We'll talk about Jens.