Pudgy Little Bastard

He took pudgy little steps with his pudgy little legs until he reached the top of the beige carpeted stairs where he would find his new classroom. Standing at the top, panting from the climb, he stood and stared at one end of the hallway at the closed classroom door that was bursting with other children’s laughter. The beads of sweat started to form on his head and he felt his heartbeat quicken as he prepared himself for another first day.

“I have to become…a completely new person today”, he thought, with memories of his horrible last ‘first day’ still fresh in his little mind. This was the third school he had enrolled in during the past few years, a bittersweet symptom of having diplomatic parents. It was sweet because it provided the frequent needed escape from being the ‘fat kid in class’ whose only friend was the ‘poor kid in class’. It was bitter because he could never escape from being the ‘fat kid in class’ anywhere he went and would have to go through the motions of befriending another ‘poor kid in class’ once again.

As self-defeating thoughts of the past filled his mind he became a bundle of negativity standing nervously in the clothes his mother had dressed him in, hugging his ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’ lunchbox tightly to his chest. This was always the first point of attack by the vicious predators of the third grade. Most of them were dressed in gap and other designer clothes for kids while he…well, sometimes he wondered if his mother spent her time thinking up new monstrosities to dress him in, just for kicks. On that specific day, he was wearing a blue wool jumper and white stretch pants that were more like tights, accentuating his fat little thighs and making his legs look like a pair of chicken drumsticks. And not a designer label in sight. He sighed painfully as he studied himself in the wall mirror hanging in the corridor, knowing fully well that he might as well be dressed as the sailor from the village people. But…it was hard to say ‘no’ to mother…

Looking at his reflection, he sucked in his tummy to see how he would look thin. He knew he had a cute face, but it was just so round and chubby. He had cheeks that were a gift from God to all old women in the family, who would kiss and squeeze them till they turned a bright red. Accepting reality, he knew that he would have to carry himself confidently to overshadow his insecurities. This time, he would not poke his chubby little head around the door and glance nervously at the class, he would boldly walk in late and everyone would think he’s cool. “Yeah!” he cheered inside his head, “I can DO this!” And with that, he turned the door handle, sucked in his gut and walked bravely into the classroom.

Immediately he recognized the usual groups; the cool kids, the pretty girls, the nerds, the non-English speakers, and the poor kid in class. “Damn” he dreaded silently, “no fat kids! I guess I complete the picture..” but immediately kicked away the thought and with a casual smile walked over to an empty desk, making sure to make eye contact with everyone. By the time he sat in an empty place, kids were looking. And not in a “oh my god check, out that fat loser” kind of way, but for the first time in a “wow, who is that cool dark guy?!” kind of way. The pretty British teacher, who he had already met while enrolling, came over and welcomed him with a ruffle of his hair, to which he coolly replied “hi” and then put his jet black hair back into place. She went to the cupboard and then came back with a stack of books that had already been handed out to the other children. He looked down and noticed that the wooden desktop was hollow and actually had an open compartment under the desk for sliding the many heavy books into, which he did. It was one of those desks where the table was connected with the chair in one big structure, and to him it kind of felt like being the driver of a car, which made him feel even cooler.

With all these positive boosts he began to study his surroundings and all the curious eyes. He even kept eye contact with one of the pretty girls on the other side of the room and immediately felt his heart flutter and his confidence soar. Then the American boy sitting to his left, who he had tagged as one of the cool kids, introduced himself, which had never happened before! “This is great! It’s finally happening for me!!” he thought, feeling like he wanted to get up and sing for joy. He even began to relax his sucked-in belly a little!

As the noise died down and the teacher started talking, he casually rested his elbows on the back of his chair, feeling like the king of the world. Out of the corner of one eye he noticed that the pretty girl was looking at him again and giggling with her friend, but the vision of her was obstructed by another kid to his left. So he leaned back to try and experience another moment of heavenly eye contact…and ended up leaning a bit too far back…as the whole thing suddenly flipped…and within seconds he found himself on his back with the entire desk upside down around him and the pile of books crashing out onto his chest and face. As he lay there, his fat legs in the air, kicking frantically on his back like a retarded turtle, unable to remove himself from the fallen desk, the scene came to him in familiar flashes of harsh reality…the laughter echoing around him…getting louder and more frantic…the pointing…those evil vultures of the third grade….he decided that he would change. “This will never happen to me again. Never.”

Until the day I die, a part of me will always live in that infinite moment of pain and humiliation.

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