13. How to deal with Bullies

The frat boy was holding a knife to my throat.  “Oh cut it out,” I said calmly.  He did.  When I went to the door, a bunch of frat boys stood in a line, arms crossed, blocking my exit.  “Let me out!” I screamed.  They slowly parted.

As we were leaving, a frat boy said to Hayden, “Your girlfriend has big tits.”

I had dealt with frat boys before in a sassy manner.  When they yelled at me “That skirt is too short!” As I walked by in my favorite plaid mini skirt, I yelled back,  “See this umbrella?  I’m going to shove it up your ass and open it if you don’t shut up!”

When I was in first grade, I had to walk a mile up hill to school.  It was an obstacle course for me.  Pass the growling barking dog.  Once a man on the sidewalk lit a match and said, “I’m going to set you on fire.”  The horrified look on my face scared him, he backed off and said, “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”

In art class we were supposed to be making ashtrays (of course this story takes place in the 1970s), but I couldn’t make mine smooth.  So I decided to make a bird sitting in the ash tray.  I rolled piles of little round pieces of clay for the enormous amount of eggs she would be sitting on, and then made the body with two big lumps.

I was carrying the bird home  with my friend whose last name was “ass”when I came upon the bullies in the street.  Little Ricky was the ringleader.

“What’s your name?” he said to her.

“Laura.”

What’s you’re last name?”  She didn’t know to lie, we were six.

“Reardon.”

Ricky laughed.  “You two, take off your pants and show me your rears.”

“I don’t know what a rear is,” I said,”But I’ll show you this.”  I took out my bird.

Ricky laughed.  “That’ll do, ” he said, and ran off.

I told my father about Ricky the bully, and my father made him walk to our house.  “He was shaking in his boots,” my dad said and I loved it.  My dad had a few choice words for Ricky, and he never bothered me again.

In class, I bullied Wayne.  He was a red headed kid with freckles who always had a green stream of snot running out of his nose, so Icalled him “snot nose.”

One day, Wayne sought revenge.  As I was coming out of school, he had rounded up a couple of   boys  to punch me in the stomach.

“Okay, you can punch me in the stomach.  But first, turn around and count to ten.”  They obeyed me, to my disbelief.  I ran off in another direction, outwitting the bullies.

When dealing with bullies, you can use your wit and intelligence to get out of a jam.  Harold Pinter, the famous playwright, talked about how he dealt with dangerous men on the street in England.  Famous for his witty, and often angry, dialogue, he used his power on  the street.

When dangerous men approached in an alley, he would say, “Are you all right then?”

“We’re all right.”

“Then we’re both all right,” quelling the conflict.

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Filed under humor, memoir

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