Just One Defining, Defiling Minute

Come with me and you will see a world of pure humiliation.

As the school bell sounded loudly throughout the modern structure, reverberating off the walls, ceilings and floors as armies of students rushed to their classrooms, one stood out, even from afar.

The new kid. You can always tell the new kid, can't you? Even if they are confident and sure of themselves, they still...don't fit in really. That takes time and social proofing (of the old physical kind and modern digital kind).

Roddy cut a lonely figure as he walked slowly up the long hallway to his form room, being jerked from one side to the other as girls and boys rushed passed him, without a care for his existence. Elbows and knees bashed him as he found himself the last to reach his classroom doorway. You'd think being a few seconds late for the first class in his new school would be problematic enough.

You'd think that, but, unfortunately, you'd be very wrong.

Roddy, even at 17, and not being new to the modern education system, was about to learn a cold, hard and inevitable lesson there and then as he skulked into class and stood before the teacher's desk. "Rod-derick Kilpatrick, I presume?" the old woman looked up at him as her glasses sat on the edge of her crooked nose. The rolling of her R's and the thud of her d's suggested a Caithness or Highlands accent. She had kindly, but strict eyes, and the look of someone who had seen it all in her line of work. Roddy just nodded shyly in reply.

"Cat got your tongue, laddy? We use our vocal chords in this classroom." she frowned, arching her right brow cartoonishly at his rudeness. All of the hard-earned lines on her face seemed to be glaring at him. "Yes, miss, I'm Roderick, but people call me Roddy" he gulped, as he looked down at his feet.

"Randy Roddy, I bet" one of his new classmates chimed in as the class proceeded to laugh uncontrollably.

"Silence!" Mrs Waverely shouted over the chaotic cacophony of tittering and outright giggling. Silence and order returned, as she glared at the unruly teens.

"Take a seat, young man" she continued looking at Roddy and ushering him to a desk at the back of the class. As he made his way to the back, it felt like an hour had passed already, when it had only been the briefest of seconds, he was both cold and hot all at once as the kids looked him up and down as he made his way to the back of the class. Just get to yout seat, Roddy and sit down, he thought, as he awkwardly shuffled past the staring faces.

As he was about to reach his desk and pull out the seat, he felt the world tumble around him and he landed flat on his face, with his smartest trousers down at his ankles and his Spongebob boxers exposed to the rest of the class.

The class, not missing a beat, erupted into riotous laughter and began pointing at him as he struggled to get to his feet. From that day forth he was known as Randy Roddy Troosers Doon until he left school.

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Fortunately, this is not completely autobiographical. Things happened early days in my school life that stuck with me, that people remembered, but nothing quite like this. I've heard stories like this before. All it took was that one minute, that one trip and then the poor boy was hounded and labeled that for his entire time at school and potentially into adult life too.

For those unsure:

Troosers - Scottish spelling/pronunciation of trousers.

Doon - Scottish spelling/pronunciation of down.

If you liked this, I always appreciate comments and clicking the little heart thing. You can also check out some of my other work on my profile or by using the links below to recently published pieces!