I hate gym class
I hate gym class
Yesterday was a perfectly example of why. I’m sort of freaky about my body, on account of I’m not exactly made like most other girls. Oh, the pieces and parts are all the same, at least superficially, but the thing is, there’s all sorts of weird stuff about me that I’m sure somebody’s gonna notice.
The biggest things are without doubt my boobs. They’re big, at least for my height, but they’re like overly perky. In fact, they’re not at all natural looking at least in my view. Quite honestly, they’d probably look great on some porn star, but girls my age don’t usually have breast implants. I don’t, but it sure looks like it sometimes, because they don’t sag right. Mom says I’m making too big of a deal out of it, and them, too but I could swear that one of the other girls was staring at them the other day while I was getting dressed.
There’s other stuff that’s sort of weird about me, too, but it doesn’t like jump out at you like they do. For example, there’s the whole body hair thing. I don’t get razor stubble. I don’t even own a razor. Mercifully, I don’t have a whole lot of body hair, but when it does come time to get rid of it, the best way I’ve found to deal with it is with a mirror and a whole lot of staring on my part, until the whole heat vision thing kicks in. Talk about tedious!!!
Anyway, what happened the other day, there’s this girl, lets call her Jane. That’s not her real name, but she sort of looks like a Jane. I’ve known Jane for years, and while we’re not exactly best friends, we sort of get along ok, and when she told me she really wanted to impress a guy, and … why I don’t know, but she figured she’d do it by being super basketball chick, I figured I’d try to help her out. I got Jane the ball … a lot, and I got her the ball where she could score some serious points. Its not all that hard when you can move way faster than any of the other girls and can pretty much throw the ball wherever you want it to go to do things like that. So Jane like scored oodles of points, and I figured things would be great.
Well, I was wrong. By the time class was over, Jane was all sweaty and gross, and I was getting dirty looks from just about everyone, except for the coach. I know the budgets are tight and all, but girls gym classes ought to have women coaches. Coach Collins is a nice guy, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from having X-ray vision, its that nice guys get hard ons too, and so when he came up to me at the end of class and started to talk to me about trying out for the basketball team, lets just say it was sort of hard to keep things in perspective. Like that clipboard thing really works. He was real persistent though, and in the end, I agreed to try out for the team, if my parents would agree.
But then, when we started to get dressed, Jane kept looking at me. It was, well, creepy, almost, the same way it feels when I’m out, not as me, but the costume and kicking some bad guy butt. Only then, well, I’m sort of asking for it, using my body as a weapon so to speak. No one stops when a 5’2” blonde in glasses and a sweatshirt yells stop, but you’d be amazed at how different it is when I wear something tight and clingy. But there’s a big difference, because when I’m wearing a mask along with something flashy, I don’t really care what’s going through the perv’s mind in the last few seconds before I take him down. With Jane, well, things were creepy, because I wasn’t used to it at school.
Usually, at school, I’m pretty non-confrontational. Its sort of part of the whole secret identity thing, but I got a feeling, at least in Jane’s case, that may sort of have to change. I was working on some kind of smart remark, something wittier than “what are you looking at?” but by the time I figured it out, she was gone. The whole thing was just plain weird.
Yesterday was a perfectly example of why. I’m sort of freaky about my body, on account of I’m not exactly made like most other girls. Oh, the pieces and parts are all the same, at least superficially, but the thing is, there’s all sorts of weird stuff about me that I’m sure somebody’s gonna notice.
The biggest things are without doubt my boobs. They’re big, at least for my height, but they’re like overly perky. In fact, they’re not at all natural looking at least in my view. Quite honestly, they’d probably look great on some porn star, but girls my age don’t usually have breast implants. I don’t, but it sure looks like it sometimes, because they don’t sag right. Mom says I’m making too big of a deal out of it, and them, too but I could swear that one of the other girls was staring at them the other day while I was getting dressed.
There’s other stuff that’s sort of weird about me, too, but it doesn’t like jump out at you like they do. For example, there’s the whole body hair thing. I don’t get razor stubble. I don’t even own a razor. Mercifully, I don’t have a whole lot of body hair, but when it does come time to get rid of it, the best way I’ve found to deal with it is with a mirror and a whole lot of staring on my part, until the whole heat vision thing kicks in. Talk about tedious!!!
Anyway, what happened the other day, there’s this girl, lets call her Jane. That’s not her real name, but she sort of looks like a Jane. I’ve known Jane for years, and while we’re not exactly best friends, we sort of get along ok, and when she told me she really wanted to impress a guy, and … why I don’t know, but she figured she’d do it by being super basketball chick, I figured I’d try to help her out. I got Jane the ball … a lot, and I got her the ball where she could score some serious points. Its not all that hard when you can move way faster than any of the other girls and can pretty much throw the ball wherever you want it to go to do things like that. So Jane like scored oodles of points, and I figured things would be great.
Well, I was wrong. By the time class was over, Jane was all sweaty and gross, and I was getting dirty looks from just about everyone, except for the coach. I know the budgets are tight and all, but girls gym classes ought to have women coaches. Coach Collins is a nice guy, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from having X-ray vision, its that nice guys get hard ons too, and so when he came up to me at the end of class and started to talk to me about trying out for the basketball team, lets just say it was sort of hard to keep things in perspective. Like that clipboard thing really works. He was real persistent though, and in the end, I agreed to try out for the team, if my parents would agree.
But then, when we started to get dressed, Jane kept looking at me. It was, well, creepy, almost, the same way it feels when I’m out, not as me, but the costume and kicking some bad guy butt. Only then, well, I’m sort of asking for it, using my body as a weapon so to speak. No one stops when a 5’2” blonde in glasses and a sweatshirt yells stop, but you’d be amazed at how different it is when I wear something tight and clingy. But there’s a big difference, because when I’m wearing a mask along with something flashy, I don’t really care what’s going through the perv’s mind in the last few seconds before I take him down. With Jane, well, things were creepy, because I wasn’t used to it at school.
Usually, at school, I’m pretty non-confrontational. Its sort of part of the whole secret identity thing, but I got a feeling, at least in Jane’s case, that may sort of have to change. I was working on some kind of smart remark, something wittier than “what are you looking at?” but by the time I figured it out, she was gone. The whole thing was just plain weird.
posted by Daphne @ 9:14 AM
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