The School Bully

So, there was this school bully – a middle school school bully – and no, contrary to what my prior writing may indicate, the bully was not me.

I’ll for now on refer to the bully as Matt Gutwell, since that’s his name.

Now here we are years later, all growed up, and Matt (the bully if you forgot who I’m referring to as Matt since that’s his name…See line above) becomes, guess what?

Who guessed criminal? Well, you’re WRONG!!! He became a cop.

Then again, maybe I was harsh on you. As has been said, sometimes the only thing that separates a cop from a criminal is a badge?

Let’s pause and reflect a moment, shall we?

Okay, reflection moment over.

So, recently I read that while he was having a party with some fellow men in blue, two teens see the cars, hear the music, think they’ve stumbled on a party – you know, not a policemen party – knock on the door, asking if they join them and as payment, they bring offerings of marijuana.

So, he arrests them.

I tell my friends adamantly, fist pounding – figuratively speaking…and speaking of figures, have you seen Megan Fox? – they were such idiots, he should have taken the weed (from what I read, that’s what people who partake of such a substance sometimes call it), showed his badge, and said get out of here you idiots.

My friends all pretty much felt like he really did do what he had to do, that the situation was forced on him.

And I immediately go:

Well, all I know is he smushed my fingers between two desks in 8th grade.

It didn’t even take a long and winding conversation to lead me to the moment of my real anger.

ONE FRIEND SAID: Guess that saved ten years of therapy.

Yep. Guess I’ll never forget the bully I referred to as Matt Gutwell cuz that’s his name.

By the way: Yes, I actually used the word: SMUSHED. A word bullies use? To be sure. But I promise, I am not the bully.