A classmate from my high school must have found my Facebook and put me back on my high school alumni list because a month ago I got an e-mail that the president of my high school was doing a swing down the West Coast. Since one of the meetups was only two blocks from where my girlfriend works, I decided to drag my unemployed ass to see what’s what.
(I managed to sneak in with jeans and sneakers, both of which violated the dress code of the building the meetup was in as well as would have earned me enough disciplinary reports to get detention in my high school — but part of being voluntarily unemployed is not giving a shit.)Continue reading about a small kid in a small, but too big prep school after the jump
I went to a prep school starting in middle school.
It was the sort of place out of . East coast, jacket and tie required, all boys. The only way you could loosen your tie was if the teacher gave you permission to, and if you got caught with it that way between classes you got a disciplinary report and detention. The only way you could avoid the sportcoat was if you won a letter in athletics and by your mother.
Since the school was expensive, I took it rather seriously. All I did was study and do a head-down zip between classes . I was, by all rights, the ultimate geek, and the middle school hovered dangerously close to the that seems to herald clique-formation.
Luckily it was just south of Dunbar’s number.
(Well that and my brother went to the school. When I got admitted, he forced me to exercise until he was satisfied I wouldn’t be put into . He also said that if he caught me wearing both straps on my backpack, he’d “pound on me”—obviously aware sibling physical abuse is a much more effective geek-motivator than being a social outcast.)
Continue reading about All about a compliment after the jump