This would be true, and was true, if you were not me. Sure A/V Club always seemed awesome to me, but so did shop class. And the A/V club, I'm sure seems super cool now because of Stranger Things or possibly even because of Everything Sucks. But that's not how it was in my school. We'll take that quick jaunt to shop class. I did sign up for it, but because I was a girl, the misogynistic teacher refused to teach me or for that matter the entire class until I was safely tucked away in the Home-Ec class where I belonged. *rolls eyes*
It's fine. I'm not mad about it. I was then, I told him he could go fuck himself, but then realized that being the type of person he was, if I'd stayed, he probably would have sawed off my hand on purpose, so I'm good. However, I didn't learn anything useful in Home-Ec either. We just went outside and had break. So, there were no cooking or baking techniques or how to sew my own clothes, and I'm not really certain why. Too bad we didn't have a mechanics class, but then that probably would have been a drawing of a car by a five year old and perhaps we'd get mechanic names like Ratchet and Pit and call it a day. So, perhaps it's a good idea that we didn't. So, on to A/V club. I mentioned Everything Sucks. Yeah, I watched it, and jesus h. christ but that show was beyond stupid. It was like a train wreck that I couldn't stop viewing. The only take away really was that they had a really schnazzy A/V set up. Like holey moley, weren't they supposed to be po-dunkville in like Washington state or something? What the hell was their budget like? We were in po-dunkville too, but our school's budget must have been enough for a round of 50 cent sodas every week. They even ran the morning announcements via video on that show. We had some kid talk for two minutes in the morning over the intercom and Channel 1, but I digress. So at my school, there was a small closet where two of those wheeled carts with a telly strapped to them were kept. It was about the size of a toilet stall in a shared bathroom. I'm not certain, but I think it's also where the A/V club met, as they were the one's in charge of wheeling these to and fro between the classrooms. There was some male teacher heading it up and three nerdy guys. I don't think they actually learned anything except how to cheque out and back in those tv's on a tabulating sheet. One of my best friends was one of those three nerds mentioned as being a part of the A/V Club. He was a nerd in the best sense of the word and is why we got on so well. I told him I wanted to join A/V Club and he said it was a waste of time and he wasn't even sure why he was in it or why we had one. Memory could be sketchy, but I think that's why I believe they met in the tiny and cramped utility closet, because of something that he said. But I could be wrong about that. He also told me that I couldn't join because of this looming threat who had oily skin, greasy hair, and a half grown in mustache. As in couldn't for my safety. He kept trying to keep me as far away from this fellow A/Ver of his. Kris Cutter. I may or may not have changed his name for this post. I already knew he was creepy. But I hadn't really realized he was also in the A/V, nor half of what he said about me that my poor friend had to listen to, trying in vain to get him to shut up. During breaks he'd find me and leer at me from across the yard. Sometimes he would slime out a sticky "HELLoooo" if I passed him. Sometimes he would lick his lips in a highly distasteful fashion. And I was terrified of a video being shown in class because it meant the probability of him sauntering into class and leering at me. He was into me in the worst and grossest ways possible. I'm not even certain why I attracted that because he wasn't the only one during my high school career. But he would basically talk dirty to my poor friend about things he wanted to do to me and my friend was all, "I can't tell you. It's too... just keep a watch out for him." And from the ick that was oozing from his aura, I believed my friend. There's no telling what that bastard was saying about me. It's almost like Meg and Neil on Family Guy, only Neil was like a damn saint compared to the A/V guy all up in my business. And well, I might or might not be Meg. We'll leave that up to you, reader. I did mention another guy. He'd been gross to me since the 4th grade, but I didn't have a clue what he was saying, and possibly neither did he (ya know, just relaying what older people were saying without knowing the full meaning). Things like he wanted to know more about my cat, so I start telling him about my cat Cash Mittens and then he said, "No, the one between your legs" and really all I could think was why in the hell would I put a cat between my legs. Or he'd make his first two fingers into a V and wag his tongue back and forth, which obviously now I know what that means, but when I was ten, well I just thought this guy was insane. Which by the time of high school, he had a new crush on me, or just vocalized it again, because then I was remembering how weird he'd be when he would sit beside me at lunch during 4th grade and then I was all creeped out because of how gross he had been being. I think it was because he was in French class with me and just couldn't pronounce French. I mean at all. It was all French words with the twangiest southern backwoods accent you could imagine and our teacher would rip him a new one every time. Or the fact that people made fun of him for bringing coffee to school. He was tiny, as in shorter than my 5'2"-ish and skinny and people would belittle him all the time. He wasn't doing anything to anyone and wasn't being annoying and it wasn't right. I know what it's like to have people be cruel, so I leaned towards him in class one day and said, "Fuck 'em. Drink your coffee and don't let what they say get you down." I also offered to help him with his French pronunciations later when that was happening. Isn't that what you do? If you're an A+ student in a course and it comes easy to you and you're breezing through your other courses, so you have the time... don't you help someone out? My science teachers would get me to help other students who weren't doing well. Our French teacher was just crazy. No, really I'm certain she was probably crazy. As in she was forced to teach English classes too, and just taught those in French and didn't care if her students failed. And she wasn't even French. She was born in the south. Crazy. Anyways, so she'd rather belittle this guy and fail him than have another student, or herself, help him. But, I think me being nice to him flipped some switch and then he thought he was in love with me. Actually I should say in lust, because these guys didn't want to woo me with poetry and flowers. They just wanted to get into my pants as quickly as possible. Gross, right? I'd have forgiven them their misguided "love" if that's what it was, with poetry and flowers and whatever other lovey-dovey nonsense. But, lust? I don't think so. He would try and say lurid things to me, I don't know, expecting me to get all hot and bothered? I did, just not in the way he wanted. Well, I didn't jump him, I was pissed off. But making me angry seemed to be something he found cute? I don't know. I couldn't win for losing. But, I suppose that while he liked seeing me angry, he felt that he wasn't getting what he wanted, so he stalked my best guy friend, yep the same one from A/V, to ask all these things I liked how how to get me. Poor Dusty. That was my best guy friend. He did stop me one day and say, "Look, I don't know what you're doing, but you've got to stop. You've got the two creepiest guys stalking you... and me!" So, I couldn't get angry with them or threaten them because they turned it sexual. I couldn't ignore them because there's only so long you can hear some guy behind you whispering about orgasms and your pussy before you can't ignore that anymore. So, I fucked with them. It was mean, but I had run out of options, short on actually killing them, but they probably would have just come back as a ghost for more. Who knows. So, I got my guy friend, Dusty, in on it too. To tell them all these stupid made up things I liked. Like killing puppies and eating roadkill and worshipping the devil, or farting. That farting was my favourite. Or just, I don't know. Anything to get them to run screaming. Only they didn't. So, we went a different route. "Fuck Frankie" by Marylin Manson where he sounds like he's orgasming and I hated that song. But we told them that it was my favourite and it was so hot. They went out and laid down 15 bucks for that album, listened to the song a lot and then when they tried to tell me it was their favourite song too (and I stopped them before they could say anything else, because they both seemed like they had a lot to say and it was going to be creepy), I laughed in their faces and told them they were stupid. That did it. Problem solved. I do hate that I had to do that. I really do. Even after all of the times they had verbally sexually harassed me and while part of me was really afraid to be found alone with them, even though the other half of me was certain that I could shove my military issue boot straight down their throat if need be, it's a terrible feeling to be laughed at like that. I know. I've had it happen a lot. I'm not even getting into every single incident here because for one that would be a seriously long post (longer than this), and secondly, I also don't want to go down that road again. But, I was hounded for a year by these two guys. Creepy stalking, creepy phone calls, creepy notes, sickening whispers, trying to follow me to the loo, the leering, the staring, the licking tongue actions. They made me feel like my skin would never come clean no matter who hard I scrubbed. They'd never once touched me, but it didn't matter. It's like they had in a way, I suppose. I just wanted it to end. Forever. I wanted them to hate me and stop all of this creepy nonsense and I didn't know what else to do except to emasculate them. So, I did. Even so, it doesn't matter what they did, I still feel badly about how it went down. I'm glad it all stopped. They did hate me. They called me a slut. They said I was a fat whore. I smiled. It only lasted a week and really I'd rather them call me those names than to constantly try to tell me what they wanted to do to my body. I just wish I could have said, "Look. This a'int gonna happen. We cool? Good." and that's that. But, that wasn't that's that at all. I had to result to below the belt measures, something I would never do normally, but being cornered, I lashed out. They'd taken this wild animal, cornered it, threatened it, and I said, "That's it motherfucka's. It's over now!" I guess that's why they said 'Nobody puts Baby in a corner'. (No, I know why it was said, but you know what I mean). Which, I thought guys were supposed to be logical and not all that emotional. Are those guy out there, because I don't know them? I had to emasculate another guy... and ended up doing it twice, because I was cornered. He too called me a slut after that. Which wouldn't that make me not a slut? I'll explain. So, I'm at Summer School with my best mate Zach and this other guy we knew from school, Landon. We're having a break and Landon decides to feel me up. He tells me, "Nice necklace" and then basically slides it hand slowly across my boobs. I was so shocked that I didn't know what to do, though Zach was all, "That wasn't cool. Want me to handle it?" But I declined his offer to defend me and my boobs... or my honour. Or something. The next day, because I had regained some composure, Landon was going to show his friend my nice necklace and I pulled him aside and said, "If you ever do that again I will beat the shit out of you." He laughed at me but I said I was serious. Back at school in the autumn, I was talking to my friends before class, and before I knew what was happening he was pulling that same bullshit of nice necklace and was already running his hand across my boobs. And I mean he could have almost been feeling for breast lumps as this wasn't a gentle action. Not that that would excuse it, but still. So, I jumped over the low brick wall and beat the shit out of him in front of everyone in our group. I hadn't wanted to beat him up. I had warned him. I had told him I was serious. He probably thought he'd get another Doe in Headlights, but I don't fuck around a second time. Now he knew. But everyone was laughing at him and trying to high five and congratulate me. This is how I'm the weird person. You think it's weird that I felt bad for Kris and Ernie? I didn't feel happy that I'd had to beat Landon up, but it was personal and between the two of us. I wasn't a hero for beating up a person, period. Much less because they other kids found him annoying for whatever reasons. Annoying doesn't equal a beating. Ever. So, I told all of them to fuck off and to stop congratulating me. Any other kid there would have joined in a round of high fives and hollar'ed out insults to Landon along with the rest of them. Sexually assault me and I will hit you, possibly a lot. I believe that is a logical and equal reaction. But you follow me around trying to be cool? No. That shouldn't equal being hit. So, I beat him up in front of our friends and he started calling me a slut and trying to be all pissy with me and mean. He was in my coffee house, in my home, trying to play that and I'd had enough and blurted out the harsh truth, "You're only pissed because I wouldn't let you touch my boobs. Get over it." and emasculation round 2. I felt bad about that too. It would have been better, though probably would have done little good, to actually say that to him privately. And I could make excuses that I was 17 and that it was the truth or that he was a jerk, which all points are correct, but it was still harsh. But beating him up stopped him from touching me, and calling him out stopped him from being a bitch to me. So, I'm undecided as to whether these types of things aren't actually helpful. They did help me all those years ago. They aren't me unless I've been pushed way too far and I do regret that things couldn't flow better, but I suppose that life doesn't flow in a perfect pattern and you just have to deal with the punches as they happen. I won't wallow in self hatred for doing something wrong, because I can't change the past. But since that photo showed up in my feed it's all I could think of. A/V guy and the two other teenage sexual harassers and now you have a post that's probably not at all concise.
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AuthorA girl from South Mississippi who finds herself in exploration. Archives
November 2019
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