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Schools Out

By: Green Fuz on the 2nd April 2009 at 3:29pm

Fun - Life - Humour

The day I left school, my friends and I ceremoniously laid our yellow black striped school ties in a pile, then set fire to them with a cigarette lighter. Standing in a circle on a deserted railway line, we watched the smoke rising. Grinning, I thought to myself, thank God all that shit is finished with.

I had no idea what I was going to do with the rest of my life now school was finished, but the summer was upon us and I could think of nothing but girls. Frankly, being sixteen in a quiet seaside town there was not much else to think about. My parents wanted me to get straight to work at a shoe factory, which was the centric point of employment for unqualified school leavers and misfits, but my best friend Jack had a better idea, he was going get a job on the fairground at Sunny Bay holiday park, this certainly sounded better to me than spending the summer doing repetitive work in a crappy factory.

Jack was a lanky kid, who wore a permanent air of scruffiness, with his messed-up mousey hair, brown eyes and skinny frame. Jack had been popular at school, especially with the girls. This was not because of impressive good looks, but rather, because rumours of his huge shlong had escaped the communal showers and spread through out the school. Along with the impressive trouser snake Jack was also funny, cheeky and generous. These qualities had got him into a ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours’ naughty bits viewing with Katrina Brown, the prettiest girl in our class. He’d whipped out his tally wacker behind the school bike shed and in return was rewarded with a quick peep under Katrina’s clean white bra. 

That incident was extraordinary in more ways than one, because Katrina was a popular girl and Jack didn’t hang out with all the popular kids that Katrina associated with - he hung out with me. I was short, skinny and socially awkward. I took an instant dislike to most people I met, and they never seemed to like me much in return. I did have blonde hair and blue eyes though, two qualities that I was led to believe girls liked, so I could never really understand why that was not the case. I put it down to me being so cool and them being so boring and ordinary. That’s really what I thought back then. I was a strange kid.

After burning our school ties on the old railway track, myself Jack and a friend called Rob, walked into town to the Bricklayers Arms, a Devon boozer notorious for serving bikers and underage kids. The run down pub was cellar dark inside with an atmosphere of sadness and casual violence. The sticky carpets smelled of stale beer and piss. It was busy, packed with other school leavers, some falling about all over the place drunk as hell, a gang of bikers dressed in denim and leathers looked on in quiet bemusement from their bar stool’s. A couple of old geezers were sat on their own at opposite sides of the pub, one was wistfully smoking a pipe, the other was doing his best to read a newspaper, trying to ignore the loud rock music that was blaring out of the jukebox. We found ourselves a hidden corner and made Jack go to the bar for drinks, because he was the tallest and most likely to be served. Shortly he came back with three beers and we all said cheers, clinked our glasses and downed a gulp of the tepid flat beer. I imagined if this pub lost its license on our behalf, we would be doing it a great service.

   “So come one Jack, tell us what Katrina’s tits were like?” Asked Rob, getting straight to the point of what was on his filthy little mind. The bike-shed incident was widely known throughout the school almost to urban myth proportions, but Jack had never given away any gory details. He enjoyed the notoriety.
   “Ah now, a gentleman never tells on a lady.” Smirked Jack.
   “Come on man,” Egged on Rob, “You’ve kept quiet all term, school’s out, none of us will probably ever see her again, what are they like? Did you get a good long look? What colour were her nips? I bet they’re tidy!”
Jack and I started laughing, Rob was a funny kid, with a slightly chubby, cheeky face. He was clearly a sex starved virgin and serial masturbator.
   “I can’t believe Katrina Brown showed you her tits,” I laughed, “Tessa Edwards, yeah, I’d expect that, but Katrina?”
   “Everyone’s seen Tessa’s tits!” Added Rob.
   “You haven’t! But seriously I can’t believe Katrina, she always seemed so prim, classy, you know what I mean?”
Jack just shrugged, playing it cool with a big grin on his face.
   “So are you still going down to Sunny Bay to find a job this summer?” I asked Jack, changing the subject. “I was hoping I could come with you?”
   “Sure, as long as you get me another pint.” Winked Jack as he raised the glass to his lips and downed the rest of his beer in one. Jack had hollow legs.

I walked timidly up to the bar to buy some more beer. I had suddenly become very self-conscious, I wasn’t wearing my school tie anymore, but I wasn’t going to fool anyone about my age. I was pretty sure the barmaid would take one look at me and throw me out, or worse still, get the gang of bikers to throw me out whilst giving me a righteous kicking. The barmaid was all you could expect from a shabby Devon boozer; busty and over the hill. I approached her without making eye contact and asked for three pints. To my surprise she didn’t baulk at my request and poured the pints like it was the most boring task in the world, which for her, it probably was.

I returned with the drinks and a more confident spring in my stride. I handed the pints out, said cheers, then we smashed our glasses together nearly causing a breakage. A couple of rowdy hours later Jack was eight pints down, Rob and I were trailing not far behind. I was shit-faced but Jack seemed to be perfectly composed. I got up slowly and stated, as a matter of fact, “I’m going for a piss!”
   “Hold up,” Said Jack, “Me too.”
   “You wanna hold my hand?”
   “No, I’m gonna hold your todger you twat!”

The toilets smelt like granny pants. The walls were covered in Graffiti; ‘Man United R Shite’, ‘Tessa Edwards sucks dick’, ‘for a good gobble call this number’. The cubicle door had a drawing of two hairy balls and a large spurting cock. I wobbled at the urinal and pissed like a horse, trying hard not to get any on my shoes. Jack was steady as a rock. I had to ask, “How come you never get drunk?”
   “Oh, I am pissed. Extremely fucking pissed, I can just hold it better than you lightweights!” Jack finished that sentence with a loud burp. Zipping up he then said “Ah, it’s time to hurl. Do you want to see something funny?”
   “Oh no, don’t do that... that thing!” Jack had developed a party trick of projectile vomiting at long distances to any target desired. He opened the cubicle door and stood a good six feet from the toilet seat, he then stuck his fingers down his throat and launched vomit through the air at great velocity, which pretty much hit the centre of the bowl. I gave him a slow round of applause.   “That’s appalling and disgusting. But it has to be said, pretty impressive.”
   “The chicks love it.” Said Jack.
   “I’ll bet.”

We finished our round of drinks and decided to leave before we were thrown out. My vision had become blurred, my head was spinning and I did not feel at all well anymore. We shambled back up the railway track and came to the spot were we had burnt our school ties. I kicked at the cinder pile and covered myself in an explosion of ash. Rob and Jack pissed themselves. Rob then said he was going home and started walking off. “Hey Rob!” Jack shouted after him, “They were like hard little apples with small pink nipples!”
Jack winked at me, “Give the little pervert something to wank over.”
I laughed. “If this is life after school, then so far it’s pretty damn good.”
   “Yeah,” agreed Jack, “From now on I’m going to get pissed everyday!”


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  • Lambeth, United Kingdom

    Some Dude on the 9th April 2009 at 11:30am

    Great last day... The days of new things and discoveries.