thought
he was tough,
and
he was,
and he was also
a good six inches taller than me,
but i caught him
off guard when i lunged at him
on the
bus stop after school.
we were maybe 17,
and he’d already been scouted by the Mets,
so that should
tell you how big he was,
but,
like i said,
i caught him off guard
and smothered him in punches
and pushed him
up against the side of the bus
and kept on punching
until he said he had enough.
and i stood back,
with sweat and tears and
dirt and snot running down my face,
and i
walked onto the bus
feeling a good six feet taller
than i actually was.
when i
got to my seat
and looked out the window
the creepy
son of a bitch
was still on the ground,
with his blonde hair covered in dirt
and a
great big
surprised look on his face.
he never made it to the Mets
and i
never won
another fight again.
