I was thinking about all kinds of random ass shit on the way to the office today (it’s a 45 minute drive from home) and I remembered this incident from when I was in the 6th grade. So there was this major douche named Larry (or some such shit) who sat behind me in my language arts class (why didn’t they just call it English tho?). Larry was a right prick who was always fucking with me. He would throw shit at the back of my head, pull my hair, kick me, spit on me, etc. Once he even put gum in my hair, which required cutting out a giant chunk. I tried ignoring it. I tried telling the teacher. I tried telling him to fuck off. Nothing worked.

One morning after a particularly rough evening at home where my dad terrorized us all night, I rolled into class and sat down. I was not in the fucking mood. Eventually Larry wandered in and said something snide to me.  I ignored him. Then I felt him grab my hair. I quickly turned around, stabbed my pencil into his hand and said very calmly: Don’t touch me ever again. I had to deal with a real bully at home. I wasn’t about to deal with punk ass Larry at school. Fuck that noise.

His hand bled. I got sent to see the principal. I ended up getting weekly sessions with the school counselor and being enrolled in some program called RAPP which stood for Resolve All Problems Peacefully.

But you know what? Larry never fucked with me again. Worth it.