The importance of being. Part one.

Even though I always claim that I’m generally polite by nature (being honest in my books is being polite), I’ve never once shunned away from standing up for myself, especially when I’ve done nothing wrong. This topic came up recently, and it was debatable whether one should speak up for themselves at the price of hurting others.

I say, who gives a fuck? So I dug back on memories from a lifetime ago, and interestingly, managed to dredge up quite a few. One of the most memorable happened around the time when I was 14.

We were made to group together a trio, for a literature project. I came up with this brilliant idea, if I may say so myself (humility is obviously not a virtue of mine), and conceptualised, executed and presented the whole project by myself because those two pieces of shit clearly wanted to ride on my awesome coattails. But because I’m generally kind in nature, I didn’t tattle on any of them.

Now, you would think these two little pieces of detritus would be ever so grateful to me and would be dying to lay prostrate before me and kiss my toes till kingdom come because “we” scored an A+. But nooooo. Instead, they decided to gang up against me and told our teacher that I did not lift a finger in said project. How I fumed. However, these girls who possess brains the size of plankton didn’t think hard enough to come out with a fool-proof story.

I confronted our also not-too-intelligent teacher and demanded fair judgement. The teacher said she had no way to determine which side of the story was true, and since it was the words of two against mine (stupid strength in numbers theory…), she was more inclined to believe them. Except she forgot that I excelled in literature then. I told her the way to the truth was simple. She just had to get both girls to regurgitate the content. Only those (me) who did any work would be able to point out which parts of the book the project was based on. And it was clear as day from there.

But stupid people remain stupid. This fuckwit of a teacher (who smears the name of all teachers) actually suggested that they get a grade lower than me. To be fair, she said. I said hell no. I said she wasn’t being fair to the rest of the class who at least put a bit of their back into their assignment. How can she give a B to those good-for-nothings? (I may sound a tad harsh but I speak nothing but the truth.) She asked me what she could do in order to placate me. I said easy peasy. Just fail those bitches. She said no, too harsh.

Remember because I’m generally nice-ish? I said fine. I’m keeping my A+. They don’t deserve a B. Not at least till they prove their worth. Make them re-do that project within the stipulated time frame by their own pathetic selves and we’ll take it from there. I even went all the way to inform our form teacher, HOD of Lit (who just also coincidentally likes me) and our discipline mistress. The latter was dragged in because I was apparently rude and insolent to a member of staff. So much for democracy.

Those two eventually got an extremely shameful grade, just shy of failing. You’d think they would have humbly learned their lesson (well, one did) and stay away from me because you don’t want to mess with me, bitch. No. Let me tell you what this little daughter of a fucker did…..

*To be continued…*


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