Friday, 4 September 2009
at 12:55 | 0 comments | carter
private school ethics and the pains of being well hung
I was raised in a strict British Catholic private school
My parents were average income
But had some sort of higher education
So they decided they'd sacrifice dinners at fancy restaurants
Overseas vacations and a second car
For us
To go there
A big sacrifice, my dad always reminded me
When he wasn't satisfied with my unsatisfactory grades
Mom just stood silent
So there we were
My sister and I
Every morning
In our neat perfect uniforms
Waiting for the school bus to pick us up
Mom was delighted as she watched from the window
As she got ready for work too
Every morning Ms. Gordon would call the roll
Ms. Whitaker terrorized restless kids like myself
I remember her grabbing my arm and dragging me across the classroom
It hurt all day
Then we had Mr. Maggi, who disciplined us with his loud, grave voice
You are unbearable, he shouted at the class once
And we just stood silent
This upbringing made me different from other people I've met
But then your life changes
When a girl tells you she is amazed by your endowment
It's massive, she said, lovingly holding it in her hands
And gave me the jerk-off of my life
Nothing else matters then
You just forget the scolding
The sacrifice
The shouting
The silence
It's massive
A huge pain
But then again
Nothing else matters
jeff carter (Manchester, NH, 1976)
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