The 400-pound gorilla

Ever wondered where all those inconsiderate people that infest our county come from? You know the ones: people who use the 10 items or less check-out lanes when they have 20 items or more and scowl if you dare to point out their mistake.

They are the same ones that cut you off with their golf carts in their rush to get a double scoop of the new flavor of ice cream from Brusters, the golf carts with those gold tire rims and hood ornaments.

They are the ones that push you out of line at the local Target just to get the last Oprah Magazine. Although The Wife would say that last one was more than justified.

Just where do all of those rude people come from? I know.

Rude people are all the same, but they didn’t start being jerks yesterday. They’ve had years of practice. Inconsiderate, bad-mannered grown-ups are the same kids that enjoy pulling the wings off flies, yanking the pigtails of defenseless little girls and beating up smaller kids for their milk money.

Yep, I’m talking about bullies. The world’s full of ‘em — people who act like they’re 400-pound gorillas.

Five minutes after the bell rang for the start of school at Mt. Olive Elementary, Steven Godwin opened the door and bobbed into class, fully aware that all eyes were upon him.

Old Mrs. Crabtree didn’t like latecomers, and for Goofy Steve, it was his third time in a month. She interrupted his slow lope across the front of the classroom, told him that he was late again and asked him if he had gotten lost.

Goof announced in his squeaky voice that he wasn’t lost ‘cause he knew right where he was. The class burst into laughter, and Mrs. Crabtree shook her head as she instructed him to take his seat. How could she argue with such logic?

Bradley McAlister missed the funny comment made by Goof and the ensuing laughter that rippled through the classroom that day. Moments before, Down the Street Bully Brad had been sent to the office for throwing spitballs again.

Luckily for me, I saw it coming and had time to duck right as it went whizzing past my head and hit the blackboard with a loud splat.

Unfortunately for me though, he sat in the back of the room at the end of my row. When Mrs. Crabtree dragged him past by his ear, he punched me in the arm and told me he’d be waiting for me after school.

It was a typical thing to do if you’re the class bully, and for the last three years no one would argue that Bradley McAlister was the resident 400-pound gorilla for the fifth grade.

Bully Brad had flunked the fifth grade twice already and seemed to get meaner with each passing year. He picked on my brothers when they were in fifth grade, and he took great joy in carrying on the tradition. It seemed that no one escaped his torment — no one, that is, except Candi and Bubba Hanks.

Maybe ‘cause Bubba outweighed him by 70 pounds and was the best defensive tackler on the Flamingo Street Raider’s street football team. And Candi – well, Candi was just Candi.

Candi Simpson had perfume that smelled like coconuts that made the guys follow her around all day. She had thick strawberry blond hair that fell all the way down her back and wore different clothes from any other girl in school.

Candi was certainly different than the girls at Mt. Olive Elementary. The rumor was her parents moved to Flamingo Street from California. The guys in school were always doing stuff to act silly around her and get her attention. Boys acting silly over a beautiful girl just to get noticed; it’s a typical thing to do if you’re in fifth grade ... or in high school ... or college ... or even as a grown-up.

Bully Brad wasn’t typical. He was the only one who didn’t act silly in front of Candi. Guess he was too busy acting like a bully, and trust me, he didn’t have to act too hard. He had the role of being a bully down perfect.

If someone had gum in his or her hair, it came from Bully Brad. A trip in the hallway, followed by books and papers all over the floor and the ensuing cackle was always the handiwork of Bully Brad. The stray rock thrown at recess that broke Principal Baker’s window, or a stolen dessert at lunchtime, or salt in your milk, or a locker full of water balloons that would tumble out and burst when the locker door was opened – the culprit was always the same. Bradley McAlister. The kid had being a bully down to a science.

When will people learn that just because you’re a 400-pound gorilla, might doesn’t make right? And that there’s always another 400-pound gorilla just around the corner ... just waiting. One that’s ready to take your place as the reigning bully at a moment’s notice.

I just wished that some of our politicians would figure that one out before it’s too late.