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Being a Number One Friend

My high school was setup with a different layout than others I have encountered. Consisting of seven main buildings, sidewalks led through covered walkways and connected the otherwise isolated structures. Any morning held the potential for me to choose to avoid going to class. Age fourteen left me seeking popularity and individuality. This craving alone drove me to propose a plan to skip my first period lesson. I saw nothing but gain from a false absence; my friend, Darius and I sought shelter in the back bathrooms of the furthest building (agriculture/metal ship). Our plan began to fall apart and a teacher motioned for us to follow. We planned as we walked behind our captor. Darius was to use the restroom and douse his crotch modestly with water as I spoke to the admin. When they decided to call Darius in first, he looked back and asked what we were to do now with silent facial communication, and terror. An instant had me motioning silently that we must switch roles. Out of sight, I thought-walked to the restroom, and used its facilities to simulate a urinary accident. Feigning embarrassment, I saw the warden’s face was that of a painfully sympathetic man. Darius had explained to the Administrator how earlier that morning, my fictional self had had an accident and he was simply being a good friend helping waiting with me in the restroom. The story was so laden with humiliation and solidarity that no disciplinary actions were taken. It is only in retrospect that it becomes shamefully clear that this was a mistake. The real reason we did not get in trouble was because we abused the trust of another. The man who was willing to hear our story was willing to overlook the penalties of class absence because he felt there was good in what we were doing. As an adult, I see how few there are that are willing to take this approach to life.

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Posted on June 5th, 2013 by Vittles

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