Oh My Gawd Sodagirl!
Harry.

December 10, 2005

Okay it’s 2:30am and we just got home from hubby’s jam session and for some reason I’m not tired. So here I sit at the computer in a tee shirt and panties, hair up in a ponytail. Gawd, where’s my camera? Anyway, for some odd reason, Harry popped into my mind. Now who’s Harry you ask? Well let me tell you.

Harry was a thorn in my side all through grade 7. He sat right behind me in homeroom Social Studies class. And he never left me alone. Ever. He was hot for me, every………single……….day. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem except Harry wasn’t your Matthew McCaughney or Chad Kroeger type. He wasn’t exactly nerdy either but somewhere in the middle of being kinda cute and kinda fugly. He was constantly trying to find ways to interact with me, even if it meant me telling him to fuck off and die or to eat shit and die. He didn’t care. Just as long as I said something to him. He would often whisper in my ear how he fantasized about me the night before while inbetween his Batman sheets. Ummmm, eeewwwwww. He would find excuses to touch me in some way. He would always want to be my partner if we were doing some kind of Social Studies project that required people to pair up. And for some odd reason, the teacher always put us together. I think now, that Harry was paying her on the side. Or she was sleeping with his father (or maybe his mother). Or some other conspiracy. I remember wearing a white blouse to school one day and it buttoned up the back. BIG FRIGGIN’ MISTAKE. As I was concentrating on a test I was writing, Harry was busy unbuttoning my blouse, so when I leaned slightly ahead, it fell off my shoulders and he got a nice glimpse of my back and my white bra. I was mortified. I turned around and in a hiss equal to that of someone possessed by the devil himself, I ordered him to button it back up before I stomped on his balls at recess. He got kinda pale and proceeded to button my shirt up but he took his good ole’ time and his fingers slipped a few times. Little pervert.

He was always staring at me. And if for some odd reason I just happened to make eye contact with him (in a moment of retardedness or perhaps I was experiencing lazy eye), he would beam like a fat kid in a freakin’ candy store with a gift certificate for a $500 shopping spree. He would wait by my locker at the end of the day, so he could blow me a kiss and tell me how beautiful I was and how he was going to kiss me one day. Ya sure asswipe, when bears stop shitting in the woods. He would sometimes take his pen and stick it down the back of my jeans if I leaned ahead in my seat to talk to the sane student in front of me. I’d go home some days with what appeared to be hand drawn, ink roadmaps on the crack of my ass and surronding areas. But for some reason I never told the teacher any of this. Or my parents. All my friends knew and they were jealous. Jealous???? Ah, ya, because who doesn’t want a greasy 12 year old guy who whacks off to you in his superhero bedsheets 5 days a week and marks on your ass crack with his Bic pen? Riiiiiiiiight.

I remember trying to find a silver lining to all of this and thinking, well at least he’s in only one class with me. Of course he’d search me out at lunchtime, hoping for a glimpse or getting his jollies at the prospect of me actually talking to him……….which if that actually happened, it would consist of me telling him that he sucked, smelled like crap, was retarded and ate boogers for lunch. But he didn’t care. He smiled every single time. FREAK. June was fast approaching and I was so happy. I kept counting down the days because once I hit grade 8 I knew I was home free. Harry was moving. Oh my gawd, MOVING. Away. Far. Moving. I tingled at the thought of never seeing him again. June 23 arrived and I walked to school with a noticable skip in my step. I don’t think I had ever had such excitement over a final report card day. Like ever. This was huge. After that final bell rang, no more Harry. I could hardly contain myself.

Three o’clock rolled around and that bell rang and baby did that sound like music to my ears. Freedom. I remember everyone piling out of the classroom, all talking at once, rushing to the lockers to gather the few remaining items from it. I got to mine and took my time putting the last few things into my backpack. This was going to be a great summer and I was envisioning all the fun I was going to have. As I was lost in thought, out of the corner of my eye, I see someone standing beside me. Oh shit. It was Harry. Hey, how about a lightening bolt right then and there? And hey, you don’t even have to strike Harry down. Strike me down. Anything. He’s just standing there, grinning. Like a stupid clown about to twist a long purple balloon into a fucking 3 legged alligator. I remember looking at him as if he were mushy, green dog shit under my pink sneakers. And he was so clueless to my sneer that he just smiled like a big doofus. Finally I can’t take it anymore and ask the little turd what he wants? He tells me he wants a kiss. Oh sweet mother of God, you’re kidding me right? I clearly know he’s not kidding so in an apparent fit of STUPID-ASS-NESS, I tell him, fine, one, short, super quick kiss and then buzz off and go play in traffic. He beams. I’m thinking if he wets his pants, I’ll barf. So as we stand in the now empty hallway, I’m also thinking that my head must be leaking and my brains are seeping out because I’ve lost my damn mind. I lean back into the lockers and close my eyes and wait for Harry to kiss me. And after what seemed like forever, he kisses me on the lips and honestly it was kinda nice. Just as I’m opening my eyes and I’m about ready to say that I forgive him for all his bullshit over the year, he grabs my hand and pulls me into the classroom and pushes me down on the floor and sits ontop of me. I’m wondering what in hell kind of accident he had as a toddler that made him such an idiot. He must have been dropped on his damn head. As I’m about to ask him if he was actually dropped as a child, he leans down and tells me how he’s going to miss me and then without further hesitation, he carefully and slowly, licks my whole face. Oh gawd, I actually threw up a little in my mouth. It was one of the most disgusting things that I had ever experienced up to that point in my life. I’m thinking being tarred and feathered would have been way more fun. Or being pissed on by a giraffe. Or picking through a fast food restaurant’s dumpster. You get my drift. Gawd, I get shivers just thinking about it. Great, I bet now I’m going to dream about the little shit. Woo freakin hoo, sweet dreams to me.

Posted by Sassy @ 4:31 amUncategorized2 comments  

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2 Responses to “Harry.”

  1. OMG! I can only imagine what kind of man he turned out to be…YUCK! You poor thing!

  2. (Karen’s cousin here) That must have scarred you for life, or turned you off guys for a long while. He sounds really disgusting!





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