Chapter 148: Nine Jostling Bullies

Friday, April 29, 2005 (Continued)

Mr. Young walked me to my class, earning me some glares from other guys, and left me there after the normal teacher arrived, telling me "I'll talk with the Principal as soon as I can." The classroom was noisy, as class hadn't started yet, but several of the guys had heard Mr. Young's statement, which lowered their opinion of me even further.

Mrs. Adams arrived shortly after the class started, whispered to our teacher, then moved to the back of the class to "observe". Her presence was not welcomed by half of the proud Y-chromosome bearers in the room.

As soon as the bell rang at the end of class, I jumped up to talk with Mrs. Adams, in part to make it clear to everyone that she and I were connected, and also to ask her, "Are you looking after me next period?"

"No."

"Who will it be?"

"I don't know."

Apart from some comments about "chicken" and "teacher's pet" (which would make me a pet chicken, I guess), nothing visible happened. The macho boys had decided that I was a pathetic coward, which automatically increased their desire to attack me, which caused them to get even more frustrated at their inability to do so, which further increased their desire to take out their frustration by attacking me. It was appropriately described as a "vicious circle".

I'd predicted those obvious consequences even before I'd gone to the Principal to talk him into appointing some sort of 'bodyguard', as EVERY boy at school knows that going to the teachers for such help is cowardly, and what that'd lead to the very first time the coward can't find a teacher's skirts to hide behind. My "Note Plan" was timed to take advantage of the idiots' increasing frustration, provided I could get a cooperative bodyguard.

Next period my bodyguard was Pete Sanchez. I'd had him as my teacher before and he was a fairly relaxed guy. I immediately started writing a much longer note than my first version had been (my plan was flexible enough not to be dependent on him wearing skirts). I had to explain the situation, my response to it, what I wanted him to do, what I'd be doing, what outcomes I was expecting, etc. None of it was complicated, but it took a lot of explaining. Mid-class I crossed my fingers and passed him the small essay. It wasn't essential that he cooperate, as there was no downside to his refusing, but there was a good upside if he did and it worked the way I was pretty sure it would.

Five minutes before the end of class, he excused himself from the room, saying, "Excuse me. I have to prepare for my next class." Which was exactly what I'd asked him to do and say.

Even before he was out of the room the macho idiots (a redundant term, if ever there was one) got visibly excited. Pete (as most of the kids call him) noticed it too. That's how idiotic the idiots were: they hadn't even waited for him to get out of the room. He carried on leaving anyway.

The idiots weren't suspicious that it took me so long to pack my bag after the bell rang. Presuming you've met schoolboy idiots before, I guess you won't be surprised by their stupidity. Very soon the class was substantially empty, and I was once again hemmed in.

My plan called for Pete to walk out of the room and go far enough away to be out of sight of the doorway so guys who left wouldn't rush back inside to warn their friends, then a minute or so after the end-of-period bell had sounded, by which time the room would be mostly empty, he was to come back and stand outside the doorway listening. In my note I'd said I would keep my hands in my pockets and say nothing, so Pete would know that I hadn't provoked these guys. It wasn't a perfect plan, as he'd be away while the hemming-in started, but it was the best I could do. I had thought to use my cellphone to record the talk - three minutes would be enough - but I'd checked and I had to delete my earlier recording first because my phone's total capacity was three minutes. I chose not to because I didn't think the additional evidence would be necessary, as it'd be damned obvious that they were attacking me rather than me attacking all of them. The only other significant part of my plan was that Pete would listen as long as possible. I could call him in by calling out "HELP!"

After I was hemmed in, the macho idiots quickly started making up for lost time, so things got ugly pretty damned fast! Which made me realize there was a flaw in my plan: if I called "HELP!" before Pete got back to the doorway, there'd be no one of authority to hear me, our last teacher having gone already.

I soon had to take my hands out of my pockets to help me keep my balance as I was pushed around, and to deflect the worst slaps and punches. They weren't fighting me yet, just goading me in a VERY physical manner. There was a great deal of verbal taunting, insults, etc., especially as I was silent, which was clearly an encouraging sign of weakness.

The goal of my plan had been to let Pete listen for long enough to be sure that these guys were aggressive all by themselves and especially that I wasn't provoking them. That way if I got into any more fights, regardless of who with, I could use Pete as a character witness that I was a passive guy and any fighting must've been instigated by my unprovoked opponent(s). I thought that'd take a while to establish, and my note to Pete had asked him to listen or look around the corner for as long as possible. But I'd underestimated how aggressive the idiots were.

The good news was that I'd also underestimated Pete's lack of tolerance for what he heard, and then witnessed when he stuck his head around the doorway. He decided not to simply break it up and send us on our way (with him escorting me), the way I'd planned. I'd thought my plan would establish my passive, unaggressive attitude with the school authorities, for when a fight really did start. Instead, when Pete heard and saw what was going on, he BLEW his stack! He came tearing into the room, yelling at the idiots, "STOP THIS INSTANT!"

After some fierce screams from him, the ashen-faced boys were sat down and I was separated from them. Pete instructed a passing student to get the Principal. I quickly intervened, saying "I have an easier way." I pulled my cellphone out, and speed dialed the school's number. I'd set up in advance, for exactly this sort of circumstance.

I resisted the temptation to say, "Mark Anderson calling for the Principal on yet another matter of violence," (or similar). Instead I simply passed the phone to Pete, telling him, "I've called the school. You take over."

Pete got through to the Principal, gave him a quick synopsis, and I gleaned that the Principal had said he'd come.

Pete hung up and passed me my phone back. I quietly said, "Umm, Pete. I don't want you to get in trouble for leaving me unguarded for a few minutes, especially because I asked you to."

"Don't worry about it," he dismissed immediately.

"No, seriously. Tell him you had to go to the toilet, okay? I couldn't care less about those idiots, or being jostled by them, but you shouldn't get in trouble for doing what I asked."

That penetrated, and he thought about it for a second. "Okay. Thanks."

"No, thank YOU. Now the school knows how serious it is. I tried to tell the Principal but he wouldn't believe me." That hadn't been the intent of my plan, but it sounded good.

While we were waiting for the Principal, I realized it was a little surprising that the school's big boss was involved in such a small incident. I mentioned that to Pete, to pass the time as much as anything else.

"Anything involving you goes to the Principal."

"Oh yeah. Silly me."

The Principal arrived, Pete told him what had happened, that he'd had to go to the toilet, had returned just after the bell, had seen and heard... , followed by a description of what he'd seen and heard.

The Principal was horrified by what Pete recounted, and the suddenly-very-un-macho idiots got yelled at a whole lot more, that being just the start of lots of yelling they'd be on the receiving end of. I particularly enjoyed that lots of other students got to witness the idiots' humiliation and trouble. The story would spread wonderfully.

I didn't see any point in missing my next class by hanging around this crap, so I stuck out my hand to offer to shake the Principal's. While he was getting over his surprise, I said, "THANK you very much for doing EXACTLY the right thing in having teachers look after me. Especially someone as smart as Pete Sanchez. As he had to go, it was brilliant the way he winked at me, gave a false reason for leaving the class, then came back so quickly that nothing too bad could develop. He fooled the idiots into showing their true intentions brilliantly. I'm very impressed. And don't worry about me being upset about the jostling, punches, slaps, insults, etc. They were bad, of course, but a very small price to pay for what would've happened if Pete hadn't been so smart. It's great to see that this school is responding to the violence problem so intelligently."

The Principal had recovered from his surprise. He had, no doubt, thought he was up another shit creek without a paddle. He'd finished shaking my hand, so I shook Pete's, "Thanks Pete. I think you saved the school having to call for several ambulances. This would be a great time to ask your boss for a pay raise, haha. I'll head off to my next class now, bye."

I left Pete with a very amused smile on his face, and the Principal with a very relieved smile on his. No one else in the room was smiling though, as I was out of the room by then.

^

[Just to describe the aftermath of this little incident.

Our school recently declared a zero tolerance policy on bullying. One guy surrounded by nine others who were hemming him in, slapping, punching, pushing, insulting, and daring him to do anything about it, managed to squeeze within the definition of "bullying". Especially as they'd deliberately sought out opportunities to do exactly this, and had repeated their behavior on more than one occasion during the day. That'd been mentioned by someone back at the scene of the crime. By me, if I remember correctly, haha.