re: #281 Guanxi88

In middle school -with a strict no-fighting policy - had a beef with one of my classmates. He was taller, stronger, and, in general, better built for combat than I was.

I removed my glasses, folded my hands behind my back, and invited him to take a shot, but, if he did, he should know that I’ll settle the score later.

A swing, a pop, and out flies a tooth and blood.

It was stupid and childish, and, in the weeks that followed, he and I patched over our differences and got to be kinda chummy.

Brought him his soda one day at lunch. Cherry Coke it was.

He took a nice long drink and slowly turned green and bolted for the bathroom. He was in the stall, convulsing from the dry heaves that a doubled-up dose of ipecac syrup will cause to a person who’s already vomited himself clean.

He looked up at me.

“Gotcha, ya son of a bitch!” And then I kicked him in the back of the head.

Same punishment for that as if I’d have thrown a punch back at the start of it.

Oddly enough, I never had any problems like that again.

Back when I was teaching middle school, a colleague of mine had a student who was being hassled by another seventh grade boy. The bully was tiny, the bullied was a big guy for their age.

He couldn’t get this kid to stop. He couldn’t bring himself to hit a much smaller child. So on this fateful day, when they were in the boy’s room together, and the bully started in again, this kid grabbed the other child’s backpack, slung it in the urinal, unzipped his pants and peed on it.

It was one of those conferences where the adults need to keep stern faces but keep having to leave the room to giggle.