15 Minutes of Fame
Friday, January 27, 2006

Recently I stumbled across an old love of mine from high school. Seeing his picture brought to mind memories of school. One of my most embarrassing moments happened in Jr. High.

It was seventh grade. I was lucky enough to have P.E. right after lunch.
Yea...luck. More like a recipe for disaster.

We had two senior teacher assistants. I was in love with one. His name was Pat. Paaatttt.....I can see him now.
He was kind of ugly...but I loved him with all my little seventh grade heart.
He was about six feet tall. Muscles EVERYWHERE...sigh.
He had black curly ringlets that would droop across his forehead.
He didn't know I existed.
Though how he could not have felt my eyes undressing him longingly I don't know. I practically salivated when he came into the gym.

One day after lunch I came plodding in, took my seat on the floor in the rows they made us sit in to take roll. I was last in line behind Theresa.
Theresa was blonde and a cheerleader...do I need to say more?
Hated her! Hated her with all the passion a geeky band nerd with no self confidence can muster. And that's a lot of hate people..trust me.

So I'm sitting there watching Pat, who I'm sure is my future husband, when they call the class to order. I swivel around on the gleaming wooden gym floor on my butt when I hear a sound.

It sounds like someone just passed gas.

A long drawn out passing that has reverberated against that gleaming wooden floor in this gigantic gym. The sound bouncing off the floor and seeming to take on a life of it's own. So loud it seems to have enlisted the help of a marching band.

I'm looking around. Who is the dumb ass that would actually pass gas in a class full of seventh graders just waiting for the next mistake to pounce on like sharks circling the kill. Oh yes, they smelled blood in the water this day.

I slowly come to realize that they are looking at...ME.
The sound is still drum drumming against the floor and indeed, it does seem to be coming from me. But I can. Not. Feel. A. Thing!

As the sound slowly dies to silence, all eyes are looking at me; I can feel the burn of their complete attention crawling it's way up my neck. I can't even bear to glance at my lost love. All chances of little ugly children with curly black locks dashed, due to the nachos I ate at lunch.

Theresa, her cheerleaders gleaming, crest smile twinkling in the gym lights, announces to the class,
"well, it's ok. I can't smell anything"
As if this will help me!

I can't remember anything else about that day. I'm sure I finished the day zombie like. Mechanically moving through the rest of my classes till I could escape for home.

Luckily the infamy was short. I didn't have to go the rest of High School with ego blasting monikers like fart queen or Stinky.

I still suspect a conspiracy.

To this day I say I was framed!

I never felt a thing damn it!

Anonymous Pearl had this to say:

Wow, great story. Horrid to live, good to survive, like the best are.

Michele sent me.

If anyone's looking for me, I'll be reading more here for a bit.

2:23 PM, January 27, 2006 

Anonymous Stephanie Davies had this to say:

LMAO!! That is too funny :) It probably was someone else, and they blamed it on you ;) Happens all the time (I have a husband who likes to do that!). Great story though, and glad you survived!

Here via Michele's today!

2:24 PM, January 27, 2006 

Blogger d.challener roe had this to say:

Eww....junior high...most unpopular kid is school right here.

Here via Michele's today

3:47 PM, January 27, 2006 

Blogger margalit had this to say:

You know, the one that smelt it dealt it.

Nothing like those Jr High memories to permanently destroy your self esteem.

Michele sent me

4:18 PM, January 27, 2006 

Blogger Thumper had this to say:

LOL...sorry to laugh, but I remember those days and the humilitions that were an awful lot like that. It only helps to know I was soooo not the only one. Funny now, not so funny then!

Here via Michele's :)

4:18 PM, January 27, 2006 

Blogger Carmi had this to say:

Oooh, the stealth fart. Those are the worst to escape from...you soldiered it well. How sweet of tarty cheerleader babe to sorta try to come to your aid. Ironic, eh?

As we speak, Pat's probably on a paving crew in a Lousiana bayou. Nothing lost, I'm sure.

4:25 PM, January 27, 2006 

Blogger Shane had this to say:

lol at Karmi. Oh man, i'm in tears. funny stuff.

10:47 AM, January 28, 2006 

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