Bobby-Kay. She was pretty. She dressed well. She was tall with long fluffy blond hair. She wore make-up. And, she was a bully.
I was new to the school (which wasn't a "new" thing to me). It was my first day and I was taken to my class. I was given a seat. And, instantly? She didn't like me.
Believe me, back then I was no threat. I was too busy to trying to be as normal as possible and get my education and not let anyone see into the crap-life in which I lived. Let's just say, Mom had a serious problem with addiction way back then. I'll leave it at that.
Anyhow, back to Bobby-Kay. I loved her name! I still do. I love double names. And, not because it's Southern to have two names like, "Betty-Sue" or "Jim-Bob." I just like them and I liked her name.
But, she was a bleep. When she would walk to the back of the class or walk by my desk, I would almost always get an elbow to the back or my head. I replaced the girl she bullied before. She as a small, petite black girl. Not that any of that matters. She and I became friends. We would *snicker-snort* in a whisper and pass notes back and forth.
And, of course, we both feared Bobby-Kay. I think my friend had actually said or done something to Bobby-Kay out of self-defense and so that is what had brought the complete wrath down on her. But, it was me now. I was the small, petite, victim now.
This procession continued and as time went by it got worse. It was more emotional and verbal torture and bullying than than physical bullying. With, exception to the head buts and stuff. I remember I had her for P.E. (Great right? Feel like you are reading the script to a teen movie?) Well, it was 6th grade. And, at THIS school, all the girls shaved their legs already. Mom wouldn't let me. I was "too" young.
Do you know what H-E-double-L I caught that first day after changing? And, the locker room was not a private venue. I HATED to have to change in front of everyone. It was awful. The other girls didn't seem to mind, but they were all developing quite well, got to wear make-up and got to shave their legs. Needless to say? That night I shaved my legs. When Mom inquired she thought it to young but she understood.
So, things progressed and Bobby-Kay continued to enjoy making my life more miserable -- if that was possible. School had always been my refuge. I loved school.
So, I had a neighbor across the street. During the summer when we first moved there, she and I were pretty good friends. She was older though. Her name was Monica Naranja. I used to think her last name was Spanish for Orange. But, that's Naranjo, I'm pretty sure. Anyhow, she was older. She was in "Eighth" grade. And, she was cool. And, the kids liked her and her friend(s) but also feared her.
So, my Mom approaches me about going to Monica. But, I GASP! What can she do? It's not her problem and if Bobby-Kay finds out she will surely end my 6th grade career. But, Mom had apparently gone over there and discussed this with Monica and her Mom.
Monica immediately wanted to help and so she called me over to her house across the street. She had never heard of Bobby-Kay. How can the cool, awesome and toughest Gal in school not know about the coolest, toughest, bleep-bully in 6th grade? Anyhow, she told me to sit back and she'd get with me.
The next day at school it was lunch time. I was sitting with my little friend from class and strange kids. I didn't have a lot of friends. Now it makes sense. Everyone wanted to be Bobby-Kay's friend so obviously, they couldn't be
my friend. it would be social suicide. All because I started school on a day when Bobby-Kay was in a mood.
So, I hear someone shout my name. "Farmer*sWife!" Me? It was Monica. Oh dear...everyone in the cafeteria is looking and listening (seriously, like on those teen movies). "Come here for a minute." She's sitting across the cafeteria with her best friend and the rest of their group. So, I walk over there with all these eyes pearing at me, wondering what was about to happen.
We have a conversation that no one else could here. She and her friend ask me to point out Bobby-Kay. So, I do. "She's not so tough. What's her problem, anyway?" Then, they add, "Go back and sit down. We'll handle this." I walk back to my seat with my face burning and my heart beating out of my chest. If I opened my mouth my heart would probably bounce right out and onto the floor.
The next thing I hear is, "Bobby-Kay!" GASP! Bobby-Kay doesn't look happy with me but she also looks surprisingly scared.
:-D Ha-Ha!
"Screw you Bobby-Kay!"
She walks over there and they tell her something. Then she walks away. From that day forward? Bobby-Kay was nice to me. In fact, she stood up for me a time or to. We were kinda' even friends the next year.
I remember a friend of mine, a new friend, had a crush on Kevin....Kevin....Gosh I loved him. What was his last name? Anyhow, she decided to have a crush on him and I had secretly had a crush on him since the year prior. [I spent the last semester of one year there and the first semester of the new year there. Then, we moved again.]
Anyhow, some one told her I called her a "B!TC!." Which was full bull-manure because I didn't cuss back then. And, Bobby-kay knew the one thing about me was that I had never said a bad word in my life (okay, in my head and under my breath but she didn't know that. And, I never called a person a vulgar name or curse word).
Bobby-Kay stood up for me then too and set my friend straight. My friend apologized for having believed someone else over me but -- I never trusted her again. She was supposed to believe me, the friend. Idiot.
Anyhow. That's my story about Bobby-Kay. Sometimes I think about her and wonder where she is and how her life turned out. And, sometimes, I secretly want to kick her @$$. Cuz' I so could. :-)
Happy Hump-Diggity! I'm out of my crap-mood. :-D
Childhood Flashbacks: "Bobby-Kay"
8 comments:
Your PE scene reminds me of how I bonded with a gal who became one of my best friends (still is, across the miles)-- turns out we were the only 2 in our 6th grade locker room who didn't wear a bra. (Now, not everyone needed one, but our moms didn't believe in training bras... until soon afterwards, when our humiliation helped to change their minds.)
I was too tall to be picked on, but I was clearly a geek.
man, I missed that post down there because my updates are all messed up BUT ANYWAY I have my story like yours, from sixth grade in my new school, but the kid got killed in 8th grade and went straight to the Devil I am sure and I guess I am a stronger person....
hope you have a quiet evening FW and catch up with you Thursday...
Oh man, your post had ME THERE WITH YOU! Great job writing this post!!
I feel sorry for bullies....sometimes. They're so ignorant. I remember I told my Mom about some girls picking on me and she said...wait for it......ahem...." you won't be homely forever". Uh-huh....she said that. Boy, did I feel better after that. NOT!
I saw my Mom as a bully after that. And yes...she's ignorant..still. I feel sorry for her at times.
There's a Bobby-Kay in every school, unfortunately. Hannah put up with it last year, and I gave serious thought to yanking her out and homeschooling. Thankfully, the girl left and this year has been MUCH better.
I am glad that you were able to work it out through your friends. I have come to ponder the fate of those who bullied me during my school career and those who I (shamed to say) bullied.
My word verification is noblenwr.
wow that WAS just like the teen movie. happy ending and all! Haha. How great. Did you ever find out what was specifically said to bobby-kay?
Also, naranja is also orange - it is the feminine form, naranjo, the masculine. Anaranjado is also orange. But one is the color and one the fruit. I can't remember which is which.
Em
PS I only know that because orange is my favorite color so I asked some Spanish friends once what the word was.
This reminds me of a similar story of my own maybe one of these days ii will share on my blog! Mine however didnt turn out quite as good as yours.
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