On The Bus

So, the other band that the FP is in played tonight at the Che Cafe. It was cool, they were all ready to play and excited about playing, and they sounded great. The only problems were, currently, UCSD does not have school at this time, and they went first at 8:30. So, not really any crowd at all. For the last band, there were still only a handful of people there who were not associated with one of the bands.

Anyway, unfortunately for the FP's band, this is not about the band. I kinda try to keep somewhat anonymous, so if I give you the name of the band you can figure out who I am, if you don't know already. The other two bands were instrumental bands, like Explosions In the Sky, but of course not as amazing. The second band, who's name eludes me, was made up of 2 guitarists, a bassist, and a drummer with a minimalistic drum kit. One guitarist had the one rip in the jeans in the left pant leg. He also had long hair and a mustache. He looked like he would play metal. Well, some of what he played was more of a rock metal sound.

The whole point of this description of this guitarist, is that he reminded me of this kid in junior high who used to harass me. We will call him CJ.

So, I took the bus most of my junior high career. I was a very strange dweeby nerdy girl. I wished I could wear the latest fashions all the time, but my parents were very thrifty. Usually, when my mom got in one of her moods and wanted to go shopping, we would try to sneak our shopping bags into the house without my dad seeing. I think he was always waiting for us though. Even though my mom wouldn't tell him, he would know when we had been shopping. So, needless to say, I was not the most fashionable, most pretty or most desirable girl in junior high. I had friends who were very popular with the boys, but I was always one of the friends of the hot girl. I had these horrible glasses that were thick of course, and the bottom of the frame was like fishing line, so it looked like there was nothing holding the lenses below. These lenses started to pop out of the frame, and once that started happening, they were always popping out at inopportune times, although there's never an opportune time for that. Along with having to lug my sax case onto the bus, I was not a junior high sex symbol. There was no reason to believe I was going to be kidnapped and sold for human trafficking.

So, getting back to the guy, CJ, who kinda looked like the guitar player. He had longish hair, maybe halfway to shoulder length. And he had a mustache. In junior high. He was a year ahead of me, and I knew him in elementary school, but I didn't know how old he actually was. He was short, so even if he was a couple years older than was normal in his grade, one wouldn't necessarily know, if not for the stache. So, needless to say, he was seedy and sleezy. In fact, he kinda reminds me of a younger Mike Damone from Fast Times at Ridgemont High. One day, he got a boner for me. I don't remember how this situation arose. I felt like it was probably something he came up with to amuse himself. But he started hitting on me. I'd sitting there popping my glasses lens back into the frame with my feet propped up on my sax case, and he would come up and sit in front of me. He would tell me I looked good, and weird shit like that. I had never had any boy show interest in me at this point. Not overtly, anyway. And here was this dark, slick, older boy who I think smoked cigarettes and possibly marijuna too, harassing me on the bus. We got off on the same bus stop, so he would follow me a couple blocks and ask me for a kiss or other dirty propositions. So, I would wait and get off at the stop after. Or the stop before and have to walk really far.

This had been strictly a bus thing, but then slowly it started to seep into school. If he saw me in the hallway, he would make a kissy face at me. Then he started approaching me and talking to me. He would call me baby. In school. In front of other people. I was so embarrassed, and I guess that's what he derived pleasure from. Then, he started grabbing my ass. Boy do I remember the first time. I was wearing my Express pants, that it was probably a huge deal to finally get. So, they were kinda baggy, not sexy whatsoever. Not that anything an eighth grader puts on should be sexy. And I believe I had just walked out of Chemistry with Mr. Chestang, the dick switcher. He would grab his dick and move it from one pant leg to another. I think that's what he did. Either that, or he had crabs. I was walking out of Dick Switcher's class and it was busy. There were so many kids in that hallway, that I had to wind my way through the hall. And out of nowhere, I felt my butt cheek being cupped. It was a very shockingly uncomfortable feeling. I turned, and there he was, CJ, with a big smile. I'm sure I was stoplight red, and he took it as a sign that he could do it again. And there he was, stalking me at school or on the bus, trying to play grab ass. I really don't know how it ended. I guess I decided to erase that part from my memory. I probably yelled at him and said something horribly insulting. I probably cried. I'm a big crybaby. The things that people remember from seeing someone that barely looks like a ghost from the past. Huhn. I just tried to google him, and it turns out, he was only a year younger than me. And he may live in Ocala now.