No Butts

It was in about the 4th or 5th Grade, judging from where we were on the playground that recess. It was winter and ice-covered puddles were present on the basketball courts near the West fence that separated us from the high school practice field.

Speaking of the high school practice field, we used to sometimes see the high school athletes way off in the distance doing their thing. One time Bill mocked the way they were running - kind of prancing along on their toes in big, low-frequency leaps. Bill was pretty much The big kid on campus. He started a thing in 6th grade where you hang from the highest pull up bar and swing as high as you could and then at the highest point where you're facing the ground, let go and drop. He broke his arm doing it. Got a cast and everything. So he was in a cast for a while. He may've been Scottish. Had dark straight hair and blue eyes, girls. And all the confidence and humor and sociability. Anyway -

I had my buddies - all two or three of them, but often I was in the mood to be alone. This day, I was sitting alone on the asphalt berm at the base of the West fence just imagining things or whatever. By the ice-covered puddles of the basketball courts. I don't remember who, but two smart girls came walking by on the other side of the ice and called out, "Hey Scott, what are you doing, sitting over there on your butt?"

I was embarrassed that they would think of the fact that I had a backside, let alone mention it out loud. I said back, "I don't have one!" This made it worse. I was so embarrassed.