Back in middle school, there was this chick (Let’s call her Kathy) who for some reason, didn’t really like me. I’m not sure what, but she would never miss an opportunity to do anything that would piss me off. She’d insult me, spread gossip about me, carry false tales to the teachers and even hit me a few times. I was always a pacifist, and at this point, my grandparents had been staying with us. My grandpa had always told me to treat women as my equals, so I kept my mouth shut as I would with my friends and went about my work as usual.
I used to have this Beagle named Alex, and the day came where he died. I remember when I got the call. I was in school, and I was seriously bummed out. I managed not to cry aloud, but I couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down my cheeks. There I am walking down the hallways, so I can get to the bathroom and wash my face to get rid of the tear stains and guess who comes walking up? You guessed it. Kathy and a couple friends of hers.
Don’t mess with a dude who has a mop.
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