And by everyone I mean all 3 of my lovely readers.
Today I thought I’d tell the short but scarring story of my old buddy Jaymere. Maybe it’s spelled Jymere. I don’t know I’m going to go with Jaymere even though that’s probably wrong, but I just remember you say his name like jay at the beginning not jy. But it’s probably jy.
Not important. Anyway, so Jaymere and I were in the 4th grade together. I was a very good kid in fourth grade, pretty much an adult trapped in a tween body. When I was in elementary school though, I thought I was so cool. I thought I was the best and I had so many friends and blah blah blah. But when I actually look back on it I realize I was nowhere near as cool as I thought and I had friends but not THAT many and I was pretty nerdy.
Off topic again. So Jaymere was quite the rascal and he kept on acting up so my teacher decided to give us assigned seats. Surely enough I had the PLEASURE of sitting next to Jaymere cause the teacher made the classic move “maybe if I put the delinquent next to the good kid they’ll learn their ways.” Nope. That move has never worked, and will never work. At least in my experience.
So poor little Tara had to sit next to Jaymere. I packed my lunch everyday and I had ALL the good stuff. Fruit roll ups, rice krispies, all the stuff your parents probably shouldn’t feed you but do anyway. Jaymere didn’t pack lunch. But Jaymere never wanted to buy lunch either. Everyday without fail Jaymere would put his greasy little face against my ear and go WAP WAP WAP and make other siren-like noises until I gave him my lunch. Again, this goes to show that I was the classic nerd. It’s like when the bully picks up the nerd by the suspenders and tells him to give him his lunch in all the cartoons. In hindsight I feel bad for Jaymere. The kid clearly did not like school lunch and his parents wouldn’t pack him a lunch. I wonder if he lived in a broken home.
So I’d tell Jaymere no but then I would get fed up and just want to eat my lunch is peace so I’d give Jaymere the dang fruit by the foot. Some days I’d try to get Jaymere to be cooperative. I’d try to get Jaymere to play a game so he’d have something to focus on other than shouting in my ear. But it didn’t work. Cause Jaymere wanted those goldfish. So then like the little wus I was I asked the teacher if I could move tables and so I did. It was a pretty jerky move on my part cause now some other poor soul had to switch seats with me and sit next to Jaymere. I can’t remember who had to but I feel a personal connection and sorrow towards them. If they are reading this I extend my greatest apology to you. I shouldve handled it like a real 3rd grader and took my juice box squirted Jaymere with it until he backed off.
Back to the story, about a year later Jaymere threw a tennis ball at recess and broke a parked car’s windshield. Good times.
That’s the story of the young Jaymere. Right know Jaymere may be the valedictorian of his class and skipped 2 grades, or in prison. For all I know either is plausible. I hope he’s doing okay. I hope he started packing lunch to school. Cause if there is anything to be learned from this story, pack your lunch to school and pack a couple extra snacks in case some kid starts yapping in your ear.
P.S. I don’t feel uncomfortable mentioning Jaymere by name because there is absolutely no way he is reading this. Jaymere will be a witness of the “bowling green massacre” before he reads this blog. By that I mean he is not reading this. However, if in some alternate dimension he IS reading this, then god, you really pulled a funny one there. You really got me, didn’t you. And Jaymere, if you’re there, I meant none of what I just said you were a pure delight, and congrats on not being in jail! Unless you are reading this from jail.