The Daily Hassle

Laughs on the go.

             spanks for the memories



Did you ever notice that when you have to recall a person or event in your past, it's always a bad memory? Yes, I am talking about that particular one where you got kicked in the gonads in front of several of your friends. It's very rare recalling a good memory at first isn't it? You want to regurgitate your first kiss or your first crush. But instead you think about your best friend’s first kiss with your first crush! Or trying to play the trumpet in front of your second crush, but you over-practiced and now your god damn lips feel like putty. Damnit Rochelle, you should have given me a chance! That WASN’T MY BEST PERFORMANCE‼‼!


Anyway…


The other day at work, I bumped into a patient. Her name was Sally. She was a medical receptionist in another clinic, not far away from where I worked. Feeling chatty, I made small talk and in less than five minutes, discovered that she used to attend the same high

school I did - only she had graduated about five years or so before me.

 
We then commenced gossiping about all the teachers and staff that were common to us, immediately pointing out their "less positive" characteristics. I found out juicy stuff about teachers I knew of. Like the English teacher, whom I thought was a really nice young man, but who had an affair with a student. Or the sports teacher that reminded me of a short chubby version of Putin frequently walked into the girls locker rooms while they were changing. Not to mention, the music teacher who chose to hang out with her students rather than her own husband. I think I had a crush on her too. Finally I found out that our religious education teacher who had half a left arm - liked to play drinking games on weekdays in pubs.


It occurred to me immediately after Sally the receptionist left, that people will always be remembered for their sins rather than being a saint. I guess it's what makes us interesting. Then I began to think a little more. Is it better to be remembered for the bad things we've done, rather than not be remembered at all? My memories ventured back to high school and realised, that I haven't actually done anything noteworthy at all, to be remembered for. I mean I played in the school band - but who remembers the school band nerd? I even joined the choir and drama club briefly (I must point out that I am strictly heterosexual). I even got an award for Christian Citizenship (even though I was a Hindu). I then became conscious that I haven't a bad mark to my name. I was simply the average student whom everyone liked but no one could remember.

 

“My memories ventured back to high school and realised, that I haven't actually done anything noteworthy at all, to be remembered for. I mean I played in the school band - but who remembers the school band nerd? I even joined the choir and drama club briefly (I must point out that I am strictly heterosexual). I even got an award for Christian Citizenship (even though I was a Hindu).”

 


Days later at a social event in my neighbourhood, I bumped into a former classmate named Chris. Chris was like me - an average student. He hung around the bad crowd that used beer and smoking weed as an excuse for climbing further down the academic ladder - but up the popularity ladder. We talked for a while when I noticed that he had definitely changed a lot from high school, He was a blue collar worker, had a woman whom he didn't want to marry and a child whom he loved. When his "other half" showed up, he introduced me in a way which I never forgot.



“Hey love, this is my old mate Jon! Yo, he used to be a real fat bastard in those days, I guess this curry muncher finally laid off the curry Yo! Yo Jon, Jenny Craig finally paid you a visit huh!? Hahaha Hahaha!!"
With that announcement, he spanked me twice hard on my stomach.

 
Chris and his later to be ex-partner left quickly but his introductory statement still echoed through my head.

“Fat Bastard?”

I got home after the event and rummaged through all the past photos of me in high school.I gasped. My eyes popping more out of their sockets.

Oh my God. Chris was right! I was a fat bastard!

I threw all the photos into a steel drum, threw some mineral turps on them and began a chant from Lord of the Rings while setting all the fat photos of me on fire. Slowly watching them burn into ash. My alter ego kind of patted me on the back and whispered

 
"Kinda glad no one remembers you eh Fatso!"

I don't think I'm going to go to any reunions Yo.