Okay, I have a problem with bullies. I went to enough primary schools, in my youth, that I was able to profilr these guys. And, I grew to hate them.
In the 7th and 8th grade I rode the school bus to school. On that bus was a guy named Pete Mullins. Pete was 16 years old and still in the 8th grade. Looking back on it, I don't really understand why he was still in school. Pete decided to pick on me on the school bus. And I, having been the new kid in school on more occasions than I wanted to remember, wasn't real hip to that.
Eventually, he and I came to an impasse.
My mom was working part time at a fabric store, along with my sister. My cousin, Jeff, was spending the week with us. I was 13 years old, and Jeff was nine.
One day, I was asked to bring lunch to my sister at the cloth store. So, Jeff and I rode to the fabric store on our bikes.
As we rode along, I saw Pete Mullins step into the road, along with a kid I had never seen before. As we rode up, I told Jeff to keep cool. I knew that there would be trouble.
To make a long story short, Pete stepped out into the road and stopped us. He said that he was going to kick my ass. But, in his typical backward-ass country accent from the area, it sounded as if he was threatening to kick my "ice",
I picked up Big Red, and slammed it down on Pete's bare foot. He jumped back, and screamed out in pain.
I got back onto the bike and rode away.
Jeff and I rode to the fabric store, and gave Joy her lunch. Pete never confronted me again, and I forgot about him as I started riding my motorcycle to school.
Bullies...I hate them.