Welcome my anonymous friends to the first installment of
Stories From A Little Crotch
For my first story I will explain how it was possible for me to be in 8 gangs at the same time between the ages of 13-16. Well to start of I have to tell you that I used to have an incredibly high pain tolerance so high in fact that I once broke two of the fingers on my right hand and didn’t know for weeks. That’s not to say that I was invincible, or even that I thought I was, it was just something natural to me. One day during 6th grade P.E. we were scheduled to play flag football but we had a substitute and we convinced him that we used the class as football practice during the football season and had to play tackle instead flag. Well he must have been a new sub or just really stupid because he went for it and so we got to play football the way we wanted to. Now as many of you may now at a young age many boys are dumb and utterly macho, sadly for some it never ends, so we were tackling each other as hard as humanly possible. For some of the guys it was best if you had to sit out a few plays from one of their hits. If they succeeded in this they felt they had proved their manhood and could hold their head high in the locker room at the end of class. I had been playing football for the last three years in the neighborhood and since it was an ”urban” area we didn’t have any grass so we were playing tackle football on the hard dirt, parking lots, and in the street. So I could hit harder and take harder hits than anybody on the field with no effect. On one particularly bad play I was sandwiched at full speed by the two biggest guys left on the field and as they took me down as hard as they could they ended up, accidentally mind you, with me face first into the race track. I got up almost as soon as they got off of me ready for another play. When I got up they and everyone else there were looking at me with great astonishment as I stood there with my face scratched and torn like nothing happened. One kid threw up when he saw the way my face was covered in blood. Well that was the end of the game because even though he was dumb the sub couldn’t have a kid with blood sheeting down his face running around a field playing football no matter how much I said it didn’t hurt. He canceled the game and sent the rest of the class over to the girls class to run laps while he took me to the nurse. Luckily even though my face was scratched and torn really badly I didn’t require stitches so they bandaged my face and at my own insistence they sent me back to class. I am sure you remember school and how if anything like that happened how quickly it spreads. It got around so quick that by the start of my next class I had people coming up to me to ask what happened. Frankly it could have been that my face was taped up like the mummy but I didn’t think it would get around that quick. Given how badly my face was hurt and the stories that had made it around the school people weren’t buying my answer that it didn’t hurt when they’d ask me why I got up so quick or why I didn’t cry. I wasn’t that smart at the time, as apparent no one was, because I started to tell people that it didn’t hurt because I didn’t have nerve endings. I know now that this is impossible but at the time it was the only answer that people would believe. By the next day I had 8th graders coming up to me in the halls and punching me as hard as they could in the chest and arms. It eventually got so bad they would do it in class when the teacher wasn’t looking. I even had a kid stab me once in science class because he had heard I couldn’t feel pain. This lasted the whole three years of junior high and half of the first year of high school. Now that you know that I’ll tell you about the gangs. I don’t know if any of you know this but to join a lot of gangs you have to be “Jumped In” which basically means that for around five minutes you get the shit beat out of you by 3-5 other gang members. If you didn’t fight back and lasted the whole time without crying or running away you were in. Well word spread through the idiot underground in town that there was a kid who couldn’t feel pain and people wanted either to test it or use me in some way. It didn’t really matter what kind of gang it was people wanted me in just to see if I could really take the pain they could give up. I was in black gangs, Chinese gangs, Japanese gangs, Mexican gangs, it didn’t matter to any of them that I was white. The only gang I wouldn’t let jump me in was the only racist gang in town which was basically a bunch of redneck jackasses that thought it was cool to go around beating up anyone that wasn’t white. These are the kind of kids that perpetuate the skinheads, Nazis, and KKK and other such ignorance for our future generations. I wanted none of it and they got pissed when they found out I was in the “ethnic” gangs instead of theirs. About six of them jumped me one day while I was walking home from school and for the first and only time, both then and now, I was happy that I had been in so many fights because I managed to take out two of them right away leaving me a reasonable number of four left to deal with. After being held for a minute while they took turns hitting me I finally broke free and took out another one of them leaving me three. I was able to avoid most of their punches and kicks but they got in a few so it took me a bit to get any in myself. Once I did I broke one of the guys jaw and after that the other two ran away and I walked home clothes torn and dripping blood, both theirs and mine. So that was the gang story. I say I was in around 8 at the same time because technically you’re never out of a gang until you die or are kicked out.
Hope you enjoyed this one and I’d like to remind you that I didn’t change or embellish any of this. No matter how unbelievable it is it’s all true.
I’m much better now