Forever Nerdy by Brian Posehn

Author:Brian Posehn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette Books
Published: 2018-10-23T00:00:00+00:00

NINE

HIGH SCHOOL: THE WORST TWO YEARS OF MY LIFE

The worst two years? Not just of school, but of life? Sure, I know that sounds dramatic as fuck, even for me. But after a brutal year and a half, by the middle of my sophomore year I felt pretty alone. I thought my situation would never improve or change. Kids thought I was a weird loser, so I felt like a weird loser.

When I would slam my door and plop onto my tiny bed and cry, it felt really shitty and hopeless. I was sad and angry a lot. I didn’t think I was that ugly or weird, and I didn’t understand why people would make me feel like that. And other days I agreed with everyone: I was ugly and weird. I was the ugliest weirdo to ever ugly a weirdo. Around then is when I started to question God: Why would he let a nice kid who worships him lose his dad, have a mom who hates him, and let most kids treat him like a joke or a punching bag?

It felt like everyone was against me before I started high school in September of 1980. It was about to get much worse: I would soon lose a lot of friends. A year later my best friend would be gone forever. At the end of my first week of Sonoma Valley High School I lost the guys I’d hung around with since fifth grade. I had already been singled out by quite a few older kids during the first four days of school, and my pals decided to let me go. After a rocky first week as freshmen, life was going to continue to be rough for them if they kept me as a friend.

Their solution? Wait until lunchtime, when we were walking off school grounds to a local deli to tell me. And by tell me, I mean they threw rocks and dirt clods at me to make me stop hanging around them. Like I was a weird stray dog with a milky eye and a near-constant erection and they were rednecks who decided they didn’t like the “boner dog” anymore and weren’t familiar with the words “Go away, boner dog.”

It wasn’t all my friends who threw the dirt clods and rocks and insults, but they were all there. Robert with glasses, Karl, Seth, Monte, my friends since Dunbar were the guys who were the loudest and most physical. Russ, Darren, and Hinchman were there too. They hadn’t jumped in or defended me. Either way, I got the message: “Go away, Brian Posehn.” I kind of prefer “boner dog.”

That was the worst lunch of my life. And I’m a road comic—I’ve eaten lunch at IHOP. The International House of Pancakes. In the middle of the day. By myself. When you eat alone at an IHOP the waiter should just put a party hat on you and shoot you in the face. Anyway, I can’t remember if I even got that sandwich that shitty Friday of that shitty first week of my shitty ’80–81 school year.

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