Autobiography of DOOM! – Chapters 2 & 3
Parks and FrivolityAuthor: Andrew Traweek
Chapter Two: The Age of Self-Loathing
Ahh, yes. Good old family genes have that way of playing cruel jokes on you. I was the buck-toothed whiz-kid that took flack from the other kids. I was called everything from “Can Opener” to “Homo Smart Kid.” And that was just from my siblings.
Every day was a struggle for survival. People wanted to kick my ass simply for being smart. For excelling at knowledge and expanding my mind. I was determined to use my knowledge to gain the upper hand, but it never worked. That kind of stuff only works in cheesy Disney movies.
So, in defense, I began the process of building an emotional wall around myself. No one could get in, ensuring my safety. It’s a practice that continues to this day. I began to fall distant to the taunting and teasing of the jock kids. Turned a deaf ear to the insults from the girls. Never really cared about anyone or anything. I just went on learning. But somewhere deep inside, it was carving away at my very soul. Waaaaaaah. Damn, I’m glad I grew up
This was when the cynic in me began to emerge. Nothing was ever good, everything had it’s worst side forward. Cynics are just glorified pessimists, with a penchant for wit and humor in the absolute suckiness of life. My unique sense of humor had been born.
Chapter Three: The Point of Genesis
Junior High really made a difference in my life. I began slipping in my studies because I simply wasn’t challenged anymore. I earned my first failing grade at that school. This, of course, did wonders for my reputation. I still had my bullies. I still did nothing to defend myself. That is until the day I snapped… the very birthplace of my adult being.
I was eating a local delicacy (Pretzel w/ nacho cheese), and heading out to my usual hang-out spot in the Quad during snack time. I loved my pretzel. It was the only thing that brought true happiness to my life. As I neared the benches that my friends and I had so dubiously stole from the band geeks, I noticed Rashad… my mortal enemy standing there. I made my way in as if everything was copasetic. That’s when Rashad informed me that I was no longer allowed to eat there. Funny, being black, you’d think he’d understand what bias can make a person feel like. Oh yeah, he called me a cracker too.
Well, being the stubborn bastard I am, I straight up told him, “No!”
Then came the shot heard around the world… he knocked the pretzel out of my hand. Without thinking, I gave him a swift right hook to the back of his head. This did nothing but piss him off, and he went to town. I couldn’t hurt him, because he had an impenetrable layer of fat guarding his entire body. I ended up getting my ass handed to me when he dealt one well-placed cross to my nose. I could no longer see, and the fight was over. I dealt with that crap for the rest of the day. It was a reality-check in the most basic sense of the term. I had been beaten.
Or so it seemed. Rashad lived in the same neighborhood as myself, and felt it was his duty to enter my best friend’s backyard to finish me off. By this time, I could see again, and I wasn’t going to go down as easily. But this was the first time I used wit as my ally. I verbally pushed him into throwing the first punch, at which point the 5 years of karate lessons had paid off. It was a right hook. I ducked to the side while simultaneously grabbing his fist with my hand. I twisted it, turned my body inward so I was parallel, and rammed my elbow down on his arm. It snapped like a twig. He ran home crying, told his family, at which point his 19-year old brother tried to kick my ass, but my brother and his ‘gang’ jumped him. Of course, my friends had to tell the entire story the next day in school. Again, my popularity grew a bit.
This is when the first girl asked me out. She was gorgeous, she was pretty, she was beautiful, she was… did I say gorgeous? She also had about 15 of her friends standing behind her, all of which were my enemies in elementary school. Suspecting a coup was afoot, I promptly turned her down with, “Um… I already have a girlfriend… yeah… she’s in high school.” Ugh, you babbling bonehead.
It wasn’t until just recently that I found out that she was serious. And that I had, in fact, broke her heart, and killed her self-esteem well into her high school years. You friggin’ a-hole! Ugh, if I had it all to take back, I would. If I could just apologize to her, I would. Anything. She’s a stripper now, or something.