I went to school with a legend. No, it’s not Michael Jordan, Martin Scorsese, or Pee Wee Herman. His name is Gary C. Back in the day, Gary was the ultimate master of mischief. In the suburban town where I went to school, his reputation precedes him.
The ironic thing, though, is that Gary had a knack for kissing parents’ asses with unabashed flair and enthusiasm. (A result of his having the most outgoing and well-mannered parents in the neighborhood, who taught their children to be equally warm and sincere.) “Why, Mrs. Jackt’s Mom, thank you for making us this wonderful dinner. It is so delicious, I could eat this every day. This chicken is simply delightful. May I please have a second helping?” He spoke like that as a kid. Literally. Parents ate it up.
In fourth grade, Gary took a hot dog and carved one end of it to resemble a penis. He then stuck it part-way into his fly and zipped back up to hold it in place. He ran around at recess with his makeshift weiner-cock hanging out of his pants, dangling and bouncing around everywhere. His teacher nearly fainted.
In middle school, he would tie a headband on (we grew up in a post-Rambo era), strap himself up with the brat’s weapons of choice (Super Soaker, water balloons, rolls of toilet paper, and bottle rockets), and set traps for little old ladies driving around the neighborhood. He was like a teenage TP ninja.
In high school, Gary would sneak his own drawings into our history teacher’s roll of transparencies. Quite amusing when Dr. F. has to pause his European History lecture because everyone’s laughing at the giant green middle finger on the projector screen.
One day, Gary decided to play a prank on our classmate Caroline. Caroline lived across the street, and had this dog named Baryshnikov (she was a dancer- can you tell?). So Gary took a sausage, two meatballs, and some red tomato sauce and put them all into a clear plastic bag. He then made a sign that said “Baryshnikov” and nailed the bag and sign to Caroline’s front door with his Rambo hunting knife.
We all had a good laugh over that one at our high school reunion. Too bad Caroline wasn’t there to kick Gary’s ass.