Tampa, Florida
I’ve done some stupid sh*t in high school that I’m not totally proud of.
I mean so have I. I haven’t changed my friend... The fifth grade me is still the fifth grade me.
Still grabbing girls boob?
Honestly... Yes. If I can’t do that to a girl, or just be playful with them in like- a non-flirty way, or maybe flirty, then I ain’t f****g with you. That’s anyone really.
If only that was always the case.
I haven’t changed Justin. Childish as f**k and just as touchy.
This conversation with an old friend had honestly left me laughing. I’m twenty years old about to be twenty one and to this day I always tell people I’ll be remembered. I don’t need a name to be remembered, I’ll take “that black guy that did such and such” I can do that, but I’d like to leave a mark in some way, shape, or form. Justin remembered me for something that I can’t say I’m proud of, but it was something I was extremely guilty of doing, but not entirely sorry for now that I’m older. Not that I wouldn’t apologize to whom he is alluding to, but that it gave me a story to tell and to learn from. Sure it was in expense of almost my record and my ass, but nevertheless it was something I could tell, regardless of how I’m perceived afterwards. I haven’t changed.
Las Vegas, Nevada
Monday
Mondays held only one purpose for me at that age and that was wrestling. Monday Night Raw was the one and only thing to look forward to after an enjoyable weekend away from that dreadful institution, or elementary school if we want to be proper. As the title of the program says when it was aired, it’s safe to assume I had to make it through the school day and then the evening first before retiring to a night of live action violence. So as any child would on a Monday morning getting to school, I went to play on the playground until the bell rang to let us know it was time to line up and wait for our teachers.
Once the bell rang, a sea of kids of all ages darted their way to the school’s wall and find their classroom number. Each class had a number on the ground that would signify which teacher would be there to pick up their students in the morning to head to the classroom. As we were waiting for our teacher, my friend Ivan had started conversation with me and told me to shake his hand and without looking I did. A sharp vibration made its way through my hand and into my arm and I pulled away quickly only to give a good laugh while I was gripping my arm. It didn’t hurt, but left a bit of a tingling feeling that I could feel afterwards. That’s when it hit me. I asked Ivan if I could borrow his buzzer for just one second and that he’ll get it back right after I use it just watch what I’m doing. He accepts the terms and agreements and hands me his hand buzzer and I start to twist it and place it on the tip of my fingers with one person in mind and in sight.
Her name was Courtney, and I would say she was my crush back then. A cute blonde with braces and a bubbly personality. She resembled your typical southern belle but without the southern accent you’d expect. Her breasts peaked my interest the most; however, and that’s where the buzzer comes to play. I casually walk up to her, to say good morning, and with a swift motion I take my right hand with the buzzer prepped and flick upwards underneath her right breast yelling “bean dip”. It happens quickly and I could only laugh as I take off the buzzer and hand it back to Ivan. As I open my eyes from a good laugh with Ivan and myself, I only see Courtney glaring at me. Her girlfriends, Melanie and some other chick stand beside her and look at me with the same death stare. I’ve never received this response from doing this. Maybe it just wasn’t a good day.
Tuesday
Tuesdays weren’t as bad as Mondays. I always had something to say about last night’s wrestling matches with my friend JP. He was extremely smart, but never really talked to anyone but me and a few others. Your typical “nerdy” looking kid, scrawny with glasses, but I never saw him like that. The usual morning routine of lining up and waiting for my teacher, except this time I avoid Courtney and her entourage. I don’t need any trouble and wouldn’t want to hurt my chances. I understand that what had happened the day previous was a bit overboard than what I normally did, but I was too scared to apologize or even say anything to her. The bell rings. The class lines up and waits patiently. No words between us, not even a glare exchanged. Our teacher finally arrives and walks us to our classroom.
I sat in class with one thing on my mind. Did she tell? That look between her and I was one thing, but her friends included? Did she really tell? This thought was embedded in my head, knocking me unconscious to the world around me as if a drunk construction worker was operating a jackhammer. She’s not the type of person to tell. I’ve been bean dipping her for quite some time and protected her from anyone else that would do it, at least attempted to. I was so unsure and uneasy. The dynamic between her and I had completely shifted and she’s gone quiet. I had become reserved too but suffering from a mild form of paranoia. Someone was going to get me. I was going to get in trouble for yesterday.
Lunch comes and I sit amongst all of my friends, right dab in the middle to speak to everyone beside me, left and right. I was the wolf of Wall Street holding trades for food and side dishes. Green beans and mac and cheese for someone’s homemade PB&J or the most famous trades, the Pringles trades. After my mock Wall Street closed and we consume our lunch in a timely matter it was time to go enjoy ourselves at recess. Recess that day was a blur, but once the bell rang for recess to be over for us 5th graders, I caught up with JP on the way back to our line up number. He didn’t do his job keeping up with last night’s Raw matches, so of course as any good friend would do, I caught him up. With utter fascination I explain to him every move that happened with each fight. The more and more I spoke the more excited I had gotten. My excitement transcended into action and his head found his way to my knee. My life snapped just as quickly as his glasses snapped at the bridge once my knee connected. He panicked but he wasn’t angry. He just told me that his glasses were about $100 to replace and were a special pair from the Philippines. Thoughts of how to bullshhh came quick. It’ll be ok Q, it’ll be ok. Tell him. I snatch his glasses and tell him it’ll be alright without recognizing the severity of the situation. When it came to calming someone down I was the expert… or so I thought. His worry declined rather fast, but his concern never went away. He stayed staring at his broken glasses.
Wednesday
Made it to the middle of the week. No word about the Courtney problem, but JP isn’t at school today either. No big deal! I wasn’t in trouble for anything and had made a smooth getaway with those dreadful two days. Everything hit routine on the nail. Morning line up, the quiet between Courtney and her groupies. We make it inside the classroom and our teacher approaches me very gently. Imagine a tall mysterious woman wearing a long black dress with her face being covered by her hair, walking slowly yet making long strides, she walked like that. Kneeling besides me she told me to go to the Principals office. What do they want me for? I haven’t done a damn thing. I bolt up and drag my body to the door. While closing it I turn around to see Courtney looking back and staring at me. It can’t be…
I wasn’t fond of wearing shorts and I lived in Las Vegas for the majority of my life. With temperatures reaching over 100 degrees it’s crazy how I never wore shorts, but I became accustomed to that and didn’t sweat too often. This wasn’t the case on the one minute journey that was the walk to the principal’s office. South Pole Jeans and shirt in an air conditioned hallway with sweat as my accessory. Sticking against the wall, my timid walk made it seem like I’d never get to the end of the hallway. The further I progressed, the further the hallway extended. Once my anxiety created too much rain, I snag the bottom of my shirt and dab those raindrops away, and there I stood looking directly inside the principal’s office with Jeremy and Justin in there to meet me. I was told to have a sit, and as usual, I sit in the chair that is in between Justin and Jeremy… so everyone can hear me. This was about Courtney.
“You know why you all are in here this morning?”
I really didn’t know, but if I did why the hell would I openly say why I think I’m in the principal’s office? Tell on myself? Yeah right.
“No.”
The three of us claimed almost in sync.
“Hmm… Could you explain to me what b..”
The intercom interrupts this roast session with the pledge of allegiance. The start of a mental world war was postponed by the grace of America. I thank you. Sadly the interruption only lasted 40 seconds and was followed with a glare only a father could really have. That ‘I’ll choke you’ glare.
“Now, someone explain to me what bean dip is”
As expected, I was the loud mouth and King BS, so I would take the role of presenter for the three of us and explain what bean dipping was in the slyest yet ridiculous way possible that sounded believable.
“It’s when you take your two fingers like so and you would go by their stomach and lift upwards.”
I lifted my hand and modeled the way someone would properly bean dip. It was an urban tutorial.
“So you don’t go to a girl’s breast?”
YES!
“No no, it’s intention is for the stomach.”
And then our principal broke. The yelling began and my impromptu explanation didn’t work as well as I thought. Apparently Courtney’s father was going to sit in on this, but our principal played ‘hero’ that morning and told him he would handle it. My lord was he handling it. I wasn’t sure what was yelling louder, his voice or his veins at the top of his balding head protruding like a 3D movie. He stopped the cops from being in there with him too and for that I could thank him.
“Was there anyone else involved?”
We sat in silence. Telepathically screaming at each other with our eyes and shared drips of sweat. DON’T SAY A THING!
“No sir. Just us, but mostly myself. They just joined because of me.”
We all have to play hero sometimes.
A whole half hour of nothing but verbal punch one after another by the principal and once I wouldn’t rat out anyone else besides the three of us, and taking most of the bullet damage. He decided to use his last weapon in his arsenal, my own mother. He told us he was calling my mother and would speak to her and that was that. I don’t remember the conversation much, but I do remember that I knew I was totally boned. He was calling her at work. A single mother, a Hispanic single mother, at work… This was not good at all. Not even for him. He hands me the phone and my mother’s voice and choice of words sent watts of electricity through my spine.
“When I get home… Quincy Oliver, you better be in your underwear and a t-shirt, now hand the damn phone back. Goodbye.”
My mother yelled, infuriated that she was interrupted at work for this.
Isolated. Justin and Jeremy were no longer in my view. It was me that was going to die today. Nothing could give me the shakes more than my mother’s chilling words. Underwear and a t-shirt echoed throughout my ear canal. Lunch that day didn’t help. Recess couldn’t help. The bus ride home didn’t help either. As the time got closer to the afternoon, I knew my clock was running out.
I usually get home an hour before my mom, and today was no different. I rush upstairs to get into my attire as my mother asked and left my belt sitting on the bed. Maybe if I comply it won’t be as bad? I jump on my grandmother’s computer to sneak my last bit of Runescape gameplay in and to tell my online friends that it might be a while before I get back on to play. The hour passes and I hear the door open downstairs. I tip-toe to the stairwell to take a peak and it’s just my uncle. My saving grace! My mother won’t be able to spank me now! Finally something good happens. Someone that will deter my mother! Within a few minutes after my uncle’s unexpected arrival, my mother shows up. My heart left my body, not wanting anything to do with what was about to happen. Mom made it up the stairs only to glance at me, put her stuff down in her room, get battle-ready, and walk into my room. My uncle walks past the threshold and I took it as a sign of everything being ok. He’s presence will deter any…
“If you hear any screaming, don’t worry about it.”
My mother calmly whispers, as she slowly closes the door behind her.
Thursday
Routine. What an easy thing to follow when your ass doesn’t hurt and even the smallest of positive thoughts left of that P.Y.T was spanked out of you. Did I deserve such a thing? I mean maybe, but here’s what I’m thinking. It’s Vegas. Let’s make an exception for me. Besides what the hell is sexual harassment anyway?
I don’t believe there was anything of importance in the morning. Matter of fact there wasn’t. I just remember surviving. I survived Wednesday and that is definitely the most important of my Thursday. That was, until of course, lunch was over. I carried my sore behind to the class number and I was all good. I avoided all that could cause me trouble that afternoon. No rough play, nothing. I had some cards with me, sat underneath the playground and played with those. I’m not risking a thing! As the class gets back to the classroom and I decide to relax and take a load off the intercom dings. My heart skips a beat.
“Can you please send Quincy Oliver to the Principal’s office?”
Here we go again.
Another day being sent to the principal’s office for this chick. Ridiculous. What else do they want from me? My hand for having it touch her boob? I’m sorry that her breasts a way bigger than the others for our age and my grubby little hands want to feel. Yes I understand it’s wrong but damn what a trap! I make my way to the office again. Less sweat, but that same beating heart that almost feels like the thud of a kick drum in electronic music. Walking in I see my principals shining face and the crystal ball he had on his head which he called a hairstyle.
“Two days in a row?” he said.
That’s all I can clearly remember from this sad meeting with him. He didn’t have the fire like he did yesterday, but it was after lunch, and with his size I’m I wouldn’t be surprised if he ate his early and then some. This meeting wasn’t about Courtney as I had thought first. This was about JP and his glasses. He hasn’t been at school since and I’m getting the feeling these glasses are why. Now imagine my principal yelling the usual things a “parental” figure would yell and then imagine him calling mine. Yeah I know, he did it again, and this time my mom didn’t want to talk to me. Great. The day went on and honestly my life was over at this point. Two days at the principal’s office back to back. Sure ‘nough when I get back home it’s t-shirt and underwear time. Ass whoopin’ number two with my own belt.
