Don’t Stand So Close To Me…

I’m now more likely to spit in your face Carlito style. I can’t believe I just made a wrestling reference. I am officially over. Help. Send help.

I’m kind of on the fence about my therapy appointment tomorrow so I’m happy that I have the Apheresis appointment to look forward to as well as it being my favorite Holiday.

Last week, quite a few disclosures occurred. Among those was a situation that happened when I was a wee lass. I was about twelve or so and on my way to school via the Cheez Bus and the subject of ‘Who would you f***’ came up as a topic among the male parties on the bus.

Rather than putting a stop to the obviously out of line conversation, the bus driver and aid not only let it continue but went so far as to actively participate in the conversation. It was uncomfortable enough to hear various adults being talked about in the derogatory manner being used but the subject eventually turned to the girls on the bus once the bus aid had left to check on when they could unload us for our day at school.

Given the history of marginalization I’d had in schools up to that point, I was pretty much an expert in looking out of the window and pretending not to be affected by what was being said. Usually those situations didn’t involve such overt language though. It was, more often than not, more mundane things such as preferential treatment of some students over others, verbal derision for a lack of ‘trendy clothes’, the making fun of certain hair styles and textures because they weren’t permed, as well as other silly things.

Eventually, the question was asked of the bus driver, a thirty-five year old man, if he would f*** me and his reply was ‘Yeah, if I put a bag over her head’.

I can’t really translate that one into words. Still, it’s stuck with me even after fifteen years. At the time, I didn’t have the self confidence to give it back as hard as I was getting it but, if I ran across him saying that now, I’d likely kick him in the nuts and then report him to the authorities.

What was really sad was that, at the time, he had a daughter who was five or six years old. Imagine the mental influence shes getting if her fathers saying stuff like that to someone he barely knows whose only a few years older. o.0

I post this now because I needed to clear my head for tomorrow. Hopefully, it won’t come out as either a jumbled mess or a blubbing snot fest like it did last week.

There, I feel better. It’s ironic too. I had actually completely wiped this post from my remote poster and, when I clicked the ‘Undo’ everything but the title came back. Uncanny.

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