I Saw So Little (True)

From now on, when writing these things, I'll let you know if they were true, partly true, or just plain fiction.  It will be designated by a (True), or a (Partly True), and a (Fiction).  I'll also let you know when it's an opinion piece.  Ok?  This story, about me, is true.  And it's fun... or at least I think so :)

I saw so little.  It was so weird how little I saw.

I'm in fucking 2nd grade.  In 2nd grade I didn't use the word "fucking" yet.

My teacher, Mrs. Armstrong (she didn't have a first name; I assure it), was awesome.  Yes, she put me with the slow reading group (even though I was an avid reader), but still... she was pretty awesome.  She would cross her legs, and she would wear a tight business type dress all the time.  How old is a 2nd grader?  I'm 30 now.  I don't know how old fucking 2nd graders are.  They definitely aren't old enough for me to hit on them, so who cares.

So, I'm in 2nd grade, and Mrs. Armstrong crosses her legs, and she is wearing a tight business type skirt that cuts off above the knee.  As a 2nd grader, I didn't care about the hotness of the matter: I just noticed these things.  She crossed her legs, and, loudly, I would say "I can cross my legs like that too!"  And I would cross them like she did.  Shit, if I saw a woman cross her legs that way now (and I do all the time), I'd get a boner (and I do... no matter who's crossing their legs like that... I get a boner.  Hot, tight, business skirt that cuts over the knees with legs crossing all over the place?  Yes, I get a boner).

Mrs. Armstrong didn't mind me mimicking her and hitting girls and tearing apart other students' drawings.  She was cool.  And she didn't look bad.  As a 2nd grader, I didn't get boners or think of girls in that way.  As far as girls were concerned, they were either your girlfriend (which didn't have any sexual meaning to it--she was just your "girlfriend"--someone you were going to marry I guess), or she was a stupid girl you were supposed to aim rocks at.

One fine fucking day, Mrs Armstrong let us go to the Lego convention that had set up in our fucking library.  Awesome!  For a 2nd grader, going to a bullshit Lego convention was AWESOME.  We were going to be able to see cool scenes of Legos!  Some old ass man ass had built up a little Lego convention for us.  We would get to walk by every fucking Lego scene and say things like, "Wow, this little Lego man is wearing a construction hat, and there goes the cement truck, perfect!"  Or, "Hey cool!  Here's a little Lego Zebra!  He's in a goddam Lego Zoo!  I can't fucking believe it!"  Or, "Well look here Elizabeth!!!  Here's a goddam fucking Lego scene where there's a Lego prostitute giving a Lego old ass taxi driving Lego man's dick off!  And his little Lego fucking Taxi cab is outside the little fucking Lego ass broken down Lego hotel!  I love it Elizabeth!  And hey!  CLASS!  I just heard Elizabeth FART!!!  EWWWW!!! SHE SUCKS!!!  Let's throw rocks at her Mexican ass!"  I couldn't wait to go to this goddam show! :)

Oh, but wait.  Mrs. Armstrong had a warning for us before we got to go check out the dicksucking Lego antics of the beautiful Lego prostitute.

"Class!  We get to go see the Lego exhibit in the library of the school.  Our proud Escondido Juniper Elementary School!  But, ONE RULE," she said.  "One rule," Mrs. Armstrong said.  My ears perked up. Rule?  A rule?  Hmmm, this is going to be interesting.  Why would there be a rule to go see the Legos?  I just want to see the Legos, thought my 2nd grade big brain.  "The rule," Mrs. Armstrong said, "is that if anyone of you sons-of-bitches stealing a Lego, you will be in BIG trouble... if I even HEAR of one of you stealing a Lego, you will be in BIG trouble!"  No one that is in 2nd grade wants to be in BIG trouble; I'll tell you that!  I have nieces that tell me about the horrors of being in BIG trouble (they're in 2nd grade or so).

Well fuckin-a.  I was pissed.  This is a true story.  The first thing my 2nd grade brain thought was: WHO THE FUCK SAID ANYONE WAS GOING TO STEAL A FUCKING LEGO!?  WE JUST WANT TO SEE THE GODDAM LEGOS!  Well fuck this, I thought to myself.  No one was going to steal a Lego (I knew this because I was the leader of the whole school, and nobody would steal anything without my permission).  Well fuck this.  Just because of this odd accusation, I decided to steal a Lego.

In we went.  The Lego exhibit was stunning!  I enjoyed it for a time, but then it was time.  "Hey Luke... cover me... I'm going to steal that Lego head off that Lego man."

"Danny... You shouldn't... you really shouldn't," Luke said.

"Shut the fuck up and stand behind this bookcase and look out goddam it."

Luke peered around the bookcase and gave me the goddam thumbs up.  I walked by a seen and snatched up my own little Lego head.  That'll teach Mrs. Armstrong I thought to myself pleasantly.  I walked for about thirty more seconds, and then I heard her beautiful voice.

"Alright class!  Everyone!  Outside!"

How the fuck did she find out!  NO NO NO NO NO NO!

I looked around for the class misfit (other than me) Aaron.  He was a red-head, and he had a propensity for beating up nerds every weak.  "Hey Aaron, take the Lego head man.  She's gonna catch me!"

"No can do Danny.  You're on your own."

SHE put us up against the wall outside of the library: "One of you stole a Lego head.  Who was it?"

No one said a peep.  All the students knew better than to snitch on me or Aaron.

"OK then.  I will search every ONE of you ONE BY ONE."

And down the line she came.  I put my hand in my pocket.  Inside my pocket, I grabbed the awesome little Lego head and made a fist around it and kept my hand in my pocket.  I noticed a trashcan, not but two feet away.  She was too close.  She was two students away from me.  I pulled my little 2nd grade fist out.  Both of my arms went down to the ground straight.  I stood like a misfit soldier.  Aaron was to my left, "Please?"  "Nope."  We both looked straight ahead.  We had both been to the Principle's Office before, but never did we relish going back to it.

"Danny?" SHE asked.

No response came from me other than the following.  I stuck my arm straight out (90 degrees from my body with the palm of my little fist facing up).

"Yes?"  SHE asked.

I opened my little fist to reveal the little Lego head.  I looked straight ahead, right past Mrs. Armstrong's waistline.  Aaron was proud.

"Give that to me.  Off to the Principle's Office with you.  We're going to call your parents."  I was marched off by some yard duty bitch or some shit.

I was like seven years old.  Twenty years later: "Sir, do you know where you are?" Some officer was talking to me: I think.

"Huh?"

"Sir, are you drunk?"

"Huh?  I ain't saying nothing.  Leave me alone."

"Off to jail with this guy."

"You can't beat me.  None of you can beat me... but I like you guys... you guys are nice, and I apologize for being drunk in public.  Off to the jail with me old chaps."