Are you getting tired of these yet?
I loved being on the Cross Country team when I was in high school. I made the best friends I've ever had, got to run with and hang out with good looking girls (when you're a freshman hanging out with senior girls, that's a huge thing), and it was one of the few sports I was actually good at. Another underlying reason that I never really admitted to anyone, especially myself, was that it filled my PE requirement and I got to skip gym class. I only had to take it once in seventh grade. That was enough.
I know that physical fitness is an important thing, what with the entirety of the country getting too fat to even move to get more food, necessitating the invention of robots to shove burgers and fries down their gullets on demand lest they eat their own hands off, but ask just about anyone and they'll tell you that gym class is a fucking nightmare. Everyone hates gym class. The only ones that don't hate gym class are the mongoloid retard alpha males that get to run around and yell and throw things and act like mongoloid retards with very little supervision. They love that shit. No ones really trying to teach them anything, making them confused and irritated with concepts like "words" and "numbers" and how fucking magnets work and they get to pick on people weaker and smarter than they are with encouragement from an authority figure. Said authority figure is usually a retard alpha male himself, maybe just a step above mongoloid. Sometimes not. The female gym teachers are usually butch pseudo-lesbians that love their job because they get to watch high school girls run around in shorts and get naked. I might be exaggerating with stereotypes, but there's truth behind every cliche is all I'm saying.
Our gym "teacher" fit the stereotype pretty well. He also taught health class but you could tell by looking at him that he wasn't very bright. His nickname was "Gumby" probably because he was obscenely tall and had to bend slightly to get in most doorways, but there was probably a stupider reason. Only the MRAMs called him Gumby to his face without him getting pissed. I suppose there was some kin-ship there. Most of those guys would either end up working factory jobs or become gym teachers themselves someday. He was once in their shoes: telling stupid sex jokes, yelling at random intervals in the locker room, grabbing each others nuts in the shower, and attacking the asses of the fat kids with towels as they changed. Yes, he's been there and he knows how glorious it all was, so he looks the other way except when he has to assert himself as the king alpha male by making everyone run laps. This is the perfect place for him and he'll keep it. Till the day he taunts a gay kid for being gay and loses his job and gets picked up by another school far away in an endless cycle. And when he finally retires he'll look back on the full life that he has led running a zoo for MRAMs and their prey. He'll die happy knowing the hundreds of kids he has scarred for life and won't understand why the fires of Hell are suddenly burning the hairs on his ass. Such is the fate of the gym teacher.
Um, sorry, I got a bit off track there. Anyways, other than running around like an idiot, having to suffer through changing and showering with a bunch of other dudes (something which I wouldn't have to go through again till I joined the military and went to basic training), and getting my ass beat and my glasses broken in dodge ball, there's only a few things that have really stuck in my mind from that one year of mindless stupidity and brutality. One was a boy who I'll call...Cletus.
Cletus's family was poor. Dirt poor. Even the poor kids made fun of him for being poor. I know nothing about what his private life was like but I'm guessing it was sort of like Kenny's on South Park. Without all the death. He was skinny and malnourished, his teeth were a lovely shade of yellowish brown, and when you talked to him you had to remember to not use big words or he'd get easily confused. Oh and he smelled. Bad. A heady mixture of musty dirt and cigarette smoke emanated from the very center of his being. I have a hunch that he might have come out of the womb smelling like that, it seemed so natural. Being at the intelligence level to know how to function in society but not much else, Cletus sought the companionship and the acceptance of the MRAMs. He might have fit in except that he wasn't an alpha male. Still, he did his best to repeat stupid sex jokes even if he didn't understand them, and yell nonsense at random intervals, and make fun of Gumby till one day it all came crashing down on his poor lice ridden head. One day he was changing clothes and stripped down to his massively skid mark streaked underwear. Someone yelled
"Hey, look at Cletus's underwear!
Someone else yelled
"Yeah, he's got crusties!"
Pretty soon almost everyone was pointing and laughing and the poor kid put his clothes back on and wandered off to cry alone. From then on everyone called him Crusty, all the way through high school it followed him. I think eventually he even got used to it. I saw a lot of people call him that to his face and he wouldn't even flinch. Maybe he just pushed the origin of it out his mind and was glad that people were calling him anything that wasn't ugly or stupid or poor. That wasn't the saddest thing I'd seen that involved Cletus though. The saddest thing was the time I was standing outside the bio lab under the overhang with some friends and we saw him going through the gutters looking for cigarette butts to smoke. It was raining out. Not hard, but even a drizzle would make looking for used smokes on the ground even more pointless than it already was. And sad. So very very sad.