Eugene
One morning in ninth grade, Eugene Ellerbe stabbed me in the gut with a mechanical pencil. Pretty hardcore pugnacity for a meek, toe-headed little nerd like Eugene, whose fiercest act of aggression theretofore had been wiping a booger on Mike DeMattia’s backpack after Mike broke Eugene’s high score on Donkey Kong. That’s how we used to settle things in the geek squad: boogers and loogies and wet willies. I suppose that’s what made Eugene’s attack so spectacular. Notwithstanding the simple fact that his Crown pencil pierced the skin on my abdomen and left behind a half-inch souvenir of busted lead, the real shock was the uncharacteristic bloodlust and hostility displayed by a kid who couldn’t move a muscle without first taking a hit from his asthma inhaler.
We had a substitute teacher in computer science class that day, which typically portended bad things for the nerds. Back then we learned how to write computer programs on monolithic black terminals called TRS-80s (everyone called them Trash 80s). There were two dozen of them in the computer lab – a small, poorly ventilated, portable building planted next to the teachers’ parking lot – and everyone who used the “Trashers” knew about their logic-defying design flaw: a small square button on the top right corner of the keyboard. The kill switch. If pressed, the button shut down the computer and whatever data hadn’t been saved was lost forever. There were very few cool kids in computer class but those who were enrolled developed a fun little game called “Let’s Piss Off The Nerds And Laugh At Their Impotent Rage,” during which they would sneak up behind us and push the kill switch in the middle of our projects. Because they knew none of us had the muscle mass or intestinal fortitude to stand up to them, the sight of a substitute teacher was like Christmas morning for the jocks, stoners and cheerleaders.
Eugene was the chosen mark that morning because he was the geek most intently concentrating on his work. The ideal target for a sneak attack. One after another, for almost the entire hour, they crept up behind Eugene, heartlessly killed his machine and scooted back to their seats before the substitute teacher awoke from her gin-induced slumber. The rest of us dweebs were so overjoyed to have escaped this wrath that we began to laugh as hard at Eugene’s misfortune as the other kids. There’s nothing funnier than an angry geek.
“Hey! Evans!”
It was Butch Hankins, the boy rumored to have touched the boob of Tina James, the cheerleader every nerd in school would have given our most prized Dungeons and Dragons dice just to talk to. Butch had never spoken to me (I didn’t even know he knew my name) so I perked up immediately to claim my validation.
“Yeah, Butch?”
“Go kill Elerbe’s computer or I’ll kick your ass.”
My heart sank. Eugene was my friend. We’d gotten our braces at about the same time and we’d both suffered the ultimate indignity of having to wear our headgear to school. We had a running lunchtime agreement that I would trade him my Del Monte fruit cup for his Cheetos. But what choice did I have here? In my panic, I calculated that I stood a better chance of Eugene forgiving me than I did of surviving a beating by Butch.
“OK, Butch. I’ll do it.”
I stood from my chair and began to sneak toward Eugene’s computer, looking back with each step to make sure Butch and his boys were still watching. I was wearing my light blue corduroy pants that day and I remember worrying that the vit-vit sound of the rubbing ridges would alert Eugene to my presence. But when I got to within just a step or two, I was still confident that I hadn’t been noticed. I paused for a moment swiveled my glance back to Butch, hoping against all hope that he’d call the attack off. Maybe he was just testing me to see if I was man enough to get out of the chair, and since I demonstrated at least a modicum of balls I was free to come over to his house for lasagna and to feel-up Tina James for dessert. But there was no such cease-fire. He mouthed the words “do it, nerd” and flicked the back of his hand a couple of times – the universal sign for “scoot.”
I turned around, took a breath and lunged toward Eugene’s kill switch. At that very instant Eugene grabbed his pencil, wheeled around in his chair and drove the lead into my right side, perfectly placed in the hollow between two ribs. The room erupted in oohs and aahs, and in an instant Eugene became a cult hero on campus (not unlike the tragically untalented guy laughed off of the TV singing competition only to become a celebrity). Butch never talked to me again after that and I never got to lay a single quivering finger on Tina.
But I did get to leave school early that day.
To get a tetanus shot.
You never recover from something like that. Nerds start out with a severe street cred deficit as it is, but I learned that year that it’s possible to retreat even further from coolness. Even the other members of the geek squad chose not to associate with me, and trust me: you haven’t known sorrow until kids with dandruff, pocket protectors and a tendency to snort when they laugh think you’re beneath them. When ninth grade finally drew to an end and the school yearbook came out, I was voted “Most Likely To Die Without Ever Having Kissed A Girl That Wasn’t His Mom.”
That's a sad story.
Which hurt worse, the stabbing or the award?
Dude, you are so lucky to have Hot Wife.
For the record, I was voted Most Likely to Marry a Dirty Old Man AND the Wendy Whiner Award. My Mom was so proud.
Wow. You got pwned in the computer lab.
Since we're sharing, I was voted "most likely to split an atom with his bare hands". Geek AND violent. :)
I am picturing Eugene like Steve Buscemi's character on Billy Madison. Poor geek is probably laying on a couch somewhere putting on red lipstick, while updating his list of people to kill...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SADRcGrIo7g
you're as good as paul feig; now you just need to find your judd apatow.
Wow. I have pencil lead in a hand, wrist, and knee but they were all accidental stabbings. That's a really sad story.
That is a sad story. It kind of reaks of the scene from "Can't Buy Me Love" when Arnold (WHY in the HELL do I remember his name) threw poo on his friend's front door. Isn't Arnold now McDreamy?
I think it is much better not to peak in high school. Then you spend the rest of your life looking back on high school like it was some kind of Eden, only to go back to your reunions as a mere mortal like everyone else. Whereas, if you were completely nerdy in high school and then became hot (or even normal) later on, it is the best "Ha-HA!" ever!
So there.
What a fantastic post this is. From the first paragraph I was thinking, "What great writing." I absolutely love it. (And have a twinge of writer's envy.)
And look at you now....you hardly deserve the lofty position you have attained, now do you? Poor Eugene.
It took me a few sentences to figure out my expectation that I would be reading a travel post about Oregon would not be realized.
We've all got stuff we're not proud of. You're a good man for facing it and sharing it with the world. I wonder how many folks would be so brave... not me.
xo
I wonder if I am the only reader who just made the 'vit-vit' sound out loud, and then laughed at the dorkiness of the universal memory...
Can someone please tell me what pwned means?
Uh, is my age showing?
I agree, this is a sad story. Any idea whatever happened to Eugene Ellerbe? Is he a kajillionaire programmer now, or something?
Oh, OUCH! What brought back that particularly disheartening and painful memory?
Similarly, I found myself with the rep for being the girl who wouldn't let any guy touch me because at a 7th grade party, whilst playing 7 minutes in Heaven, I refused to do anything more than kiss the guy I was "going with" (remember that weird little pre-pubescent dating ritual?). I was like steamy dog shit to every guy after that. I did, however, get named "Most Likely to Become a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader..." thanks to the early rise of my buxom bosom. (Now you know why the guys wanted to do more than just kiss... heh heh)
Great post! But what I really want to know is did you successfully hit Eugene's kill switch after he stabbed you? Then at least it would have been worth the stabbing.
Ah, the TRS-80s! Here's what I remember:
10 PRINT "This class sucks"
20 GOTO 10
RUN
Sometimes I think this old DOS crap works better than Vista!
That is sad. I think my story is worse. This guy Julian used to pull my hair everyday in third grade. He would trip me as I walked by his chair on my way to the pencil sharpener. One day I was fed up. As he tripped be I turned and hit him in the head. Unfortunately, my newly sharpened pencil was in my head. The lead went into his head and I was SUSPENDED. My mother had to leave work to pick me up from school. She was not amused or sympathetic.
I meant the pencil was in my hand. That is what I get for not previewing.
Ok, too many mistakes to fix. You get what I am saying though, right?
First: Eugene, if you're out there, the Internets are waiting to hear that you are fulfilled and happy!
D, you're a brave soul, and this is superbly crafted. And I feel somehow that I need to apologize on behalf of Butch, because Hankins is my maiden name, and I have never seen it used in a story anywhere, EVER, until now! Yikes, I hope he's not family.
And where is Eugene today?
I have to say I'm intrigued that so many of you find this story so sad. I don't view it that way.
I have no idea where Eugene is today. You'd think I'd keep closer tabs on the kid who stabbed me, but I imagine he lives in his parents' basement somewhere and spends his paltry 7-11 wages on foot-fetishist phone sex lines and cases of Monster energy drink.
Psh I thought you were one of us!
Was he really called Eugene? because you paint a picture of the Epitome of a 'Eugene,' everyone ( apart from mothers who name their kids Eugene) thinks of Eugene as a nerd, wimpy little geek person, with side parting and polyester pants. Why would anyone call their kid Eugene?
I must be a hard hearted old bag because I laughed and snorted my way through the whole post, especially the cordouroy noise.
Hey, I hang out here and I snort when I laugh...sheesh.
Danny, you understand why some of us see it as sad, right? Because we understand how emasculating it is to be cowed into doing something that would normally be done to us by the class bully.
I hope Butch is rotting in some doublewide somewhere, between stays in the pokey for cooking/selling/using meth, on his way to being the new poster boy for FacesOfMeth.com. Bullying the geeks is one thing; forcing the geeks to bully one another makes me want to go find my personal childhood bully (who, BTW, is in jail for trying to copy the DC sniper) and beat the s#!t out of him on principle.
I was totally amazed as I read this...when I got to the part where you were lunging toward Eugene's computer kill switch my computer screen went blank and then said,"WINDOWS SHUTTING DOWN." I thought, wow, he's pretty talented...you get the real effect....then I realized my dog's fat ass was pressed against the computer button and it really was shutting down. Nerd dog!
Excellent writing! This seemed like a moment ripped out of "Freaks and Geeks"... your Sharon post was also awesome!