11 December 2013

How I Broke a Girl's Nose

            This story takes me back to the last month of my senior year of high school at Mascoutah Community High School: home of the (purple and white) Indians.  The year itself was an interesting experience full of adventures that I might explore later.
            But this particular one happened in gym.  At good ol’ MCHS, gym classes weren’t segregated by grade level.  Some activities were co-ed and others weren’t.  For some reason, on a gorgeous day in the spring, we were stuck inside playing volleyball.  Now, I like volleyball.  Don’t get me wrong.  In fact, it’s one of my favorite sports to play.  I used to be pretty good, if I do say so myself.
            We were busily playing a match, but the game wasn’t flowing very smoothly.  On the opposing team was a girl, I believe she was a sophomore, or even a freshman who could not shut up to save her life.  I think her name was Nicole or Natalie or something like that.  Marc might have known her.  I remember she had short, brown hair, and big teeth.  I thought she looked like a chipmunk in a cheerleader outfit.  Yes, she did cheer, which was one of the reasons for her aloof attitude.  She thought that because she was on the team, it somehow elevated her status.  Honestly, most upperclassmen still ignored her high-pitched giggling.  She was cute, but annoying as all get out.
            On this day in gym, I was not the only one fed up with her incessant gossip.  Multiple times she had verbally assaulted her own teammates who were trying to involve her in the game.  She just rolled her eyes if the ball came near her.  Some people duck out of the way or scream or at least pretend to try and hit the volleyball, especially when playing in a large group setting.  Chipette didn’t even bother to move out of the way. Like it was too much effort to even pay attention to what was going on around her.  Every once in a while, when she would make an excellent non-effort to make a play that came right at her, she would sidestep and say,” Oops.”
            Aggravated, one of my teammates threw the ball at her to get her attention, but he missed.  She gave him the stink eye for a couple seconds and then promptly turned back to talk to her other friend.  (She was a half-hearted—no, make that a sixteenth-hearted player.)  We were trying to play a game, but all she wanted to do was discuss boy bands, braces, and bra sizes.
            The guy who missed hitting Chipette the first time—I don’t remember if it was Jason or Josh or Chris—called my name on the set for the next ball over.  I was playing in the right side of the net, my strength when it came to swinging the hammer.
            “Just hit her!” he exclaimed as he set the ball high and tight: beautiful.
            I swung with all my might, just wanting to get her to move, perhaps clip her leg or something., so she’d shut up and play, or at least move off the court.
            At that precise moment, Chipette turned her head toward the net for the first time all period.  Boom!  Wilson greeted her in the face.  It caught her nose and spun her head back around.  Blood spewed red a couple yards across the floor and across her friend.  The red fountain gushed, as she stood dumbfounded in the middle of the gym.
            A couple students gave a polite applause.
            Chipette, or Natalie, or whatever her name was, stood speechless (about time).  It took quite a while before the blood slowed to a drip.  Oops.
Before I could say or do anything, three of the other kids playing ran over to Mr. Junker to report that this chick had an accident and got hit because she wasn’t paying attention.  There was no mention of my name.  Homegirl laughed it off, trying to downplay her embarrassment and humiliation.
            The next day, she showed up with a white bandage on her nose and a non-participation note for gym.  She looked more like a pig with chipmunk teeth after that.  I don’t remember if she ever even dressed for gym again for the rest of the year, yet after school she would shed the sympathy plasters and cheer her little guts out.

Moral of the story: Pay attention.
Moral 2.0: Pay attention ,or your nose will promptly be broken.


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I think I'll post a little writing every so often...some polished...some rough. And I welcome any comments or criticisms or cupcakes you care to throw my way.