Billy Meagher & A Training Bra

I have a repressed memory

from the sixth grade,

which was burned into my head

like an engraving tool was used.

 

I attended first grade…

clear through eighth grade,

with a carry-over into High School... 

with a cretin named

Billy Meagher

(which rhymes with BRA.)

Now, in order to not disparage

Mr. Meagher’s credibility

 as a good human being,

I’m going out on a limb here,

to say that I just
didn’t know him very well.

Not anywhere close

to the way 
the doctors at Bellevue

knew him.

This boy was
the epitome of

a mean, mean kid.

I think I saw him smile, ONCE….

But he was
torching an ant farm,
at the time

...so I don't think that counts.

Striving to be a

good Christian woman,

I can now hope & pray

that nothing amiss

was going on for him, at home…

If God just built him nasty,

well, alrighty then.

So. It’s sixth grade.

We’re 12 years old.

Not all of the girls had, um,

fully developed, quite yet.


 

BUT WE WERE
12 YEARS OLD, 

FOR CRIKEY SAKE!!!

Gosh, but I picture

Anna Nicole Smith at 12 &

figure ol’ Billy
would have been such

a sweet young man,

being in her classroom.

Anyway.  

Apparently Billy
 had him some stupider

influential older brothers,




 

who were feeding him

inappropriate adult banter

about how girls

did or didn’t measure up,

in a “real man’s” eyes.

Or, he got off the school bus
at the pub each afternoon &

hung out until he had

to go do his homework.



 

Regardless of the source,

 this boy was tainted.

While he should

have been focused on

baseball & football,

 

his mind…


well, it went
a-wandering.

For some reason,
that I am currently

 too senile to recall,

our normal nun

was down with something:

Or

Or

Or

Yep. It was most likely

down with the sickness...




 

SO I DIGRESSED AGAIN...

...  & the geniuses that
ran that school

were apparently short
 on back-up nuns.

 

So they secured themselves

a 22-year old substitute,

to fill in for the missing Sister.

 

I remember she was blonde.

 A tiny bit on the stocky side.





 

She was sweet,

but she was greener than

 Kermie.

 

When she opened her mouth

to exert her authority as
 the only adult in the room,

she sounded like the
 female police trainee in
all of those stupid
Police Academy movies,

 1 through 36.

She sort of squeeked
as she yelled, 

yet nothing came

out of her mouth


 except for fear.

Billy smelled her fear &

swooped in for the kill.

 

When she couldn’t
control the class,

12-year old Mr. Meagher
gladly took command.

As the chubby,
blonde teacher

sat down,

Billy stood up.

 

He then proceeded,

in a psycho-methodical manner,

to walk up & down each aisle….

 LITERALLY

SIZING UP

 each female classmate,

AND

 announcing her status

 to the rest of the class.

After he passed by

Jimmy,

 Bobby &

 Johnny,

he zoomed in

on his first victim:

And away he went…

With a sickly,

grotesque finger

that would make E.T. jealous,

 

he would extend it

at his arrival

next to each new girl that

 he stumbled upon.

“You’re Flat-chested,”
he informed her,
as if he was letting her
 in on the fact
 that she was Italian.

Finger retracted,

as he slid down the row

to the next victim.

Finger re-extended:

“You’re Flat-chested,”

he loudly proclaimed

in a ridiculously erudite tone,

as if he had been studying

female physiology

instead of playing
baseball & football,

like the normal boys.

He was finishing up
on the last victim,

in the first aisle & rounding second

 

when I caught wind of what

he was saying & doing.

I instinctly dropped my chin &

took a quick inventory of my

 “12-year-old goods.”

Oh, crap. I’m doomed.

I was sweating profusely &

my heart was beating out of control,

under my near flat-as-a-pancake bosom…

Everything was moving
in slow-motion,

along with the words that were

 coming out of psycho boy’s mouth.

“Yyyyyoooooouuuuuuu’rrrrrrrrreeeeeeee Flaaaaahhhhhhtttttt-cccchhhhheeeeessssssssttttttteeeeeeddddddd……”

The sound was a stupid mix of

Darth Vader

&

 the beginning of

Def Lepard’s

“Love Bites.”

Click on the link below,
but STOP

when the music starts.

I think you'll get my drift.

http://youtu.be/MQSkIFhuli0

I always thought I was
quick on my feet,

but creativity was failing me,

on how to escape
this uninvited persecution.

 

I looked to our

fearless adult teacher,

for her saving grace,

as well as her ability & desire

to vanquish this little bastard.

Lot of good that did me.

She was pretty much
sucking her thumb,

 rocking back & forth in a corner…

attempting to self-soothe
her professional ego,

that was broken & left for dead

 by a miserable

little shit of a 12-year old. 

 

By now, he’s cleared

 the second row,

leaving the boys

 with their jaws agape,

in some sick twist of

 amazement & repulsion,

and the girls in either hot,

mortified tears,

or the fervent desire

to kick the ever-living

crap out of him,

...en masse.

 

 

As he’s making his way
 through row 3,

In which sat ME….

I did the only logical thing

I could come up with:

 

I prayed to
our Heavenly Father,

to strike Billy down.

Strike him right the hell down



& mute,

while he was at it.

Let his stupid finger
 snap off

& fall to the ground.

So he’d end up getting

a neurological work-up…

B.igF.ingDeal.

Lots of respectable people
 take Lithium.

Think of the
years of therapy 
 these innocent girls would face.

For some inexplicable reason,

he just stopped...

Two girls short of my location.

It was like barely escaping
 being creamed, in a

15-car-pile-up

as you braced for it.

 

Perhaps the

Mother of all Nuns walked in.

 

I don’t recall.

But at that moment,

I felt that I had been given

a divine gift,

of divine intervention.

Or,
I SIMPLY
HAD THE GIFT,
 MYSELF.

My parents didn’t

bust their butts

to send me to

Catholic School

for nothin’…

 Money well spent,

I think.

Billy Meagher,

wherever you are…

I hope that

Our Heavenly Father,

in his INFINITE WISDOM

has seen fit to bless you with:

6

Well-Blessed

Girls...

 

~ SusiTheJ ~