Читать книгу Surprisingly Down to Earth, and Very Funny - Limmy - Страница 18

Earlier in the book, you asked me the question, ‘Limmy, did your mum give you enough cuddles?’

Now I hear you ask, ‘Limmy, were you bullied in school?’

No, I wasn’t. Not really.

There were a couple of boys that bullied me for a few weeks whenever I was in art, in first year. They noised me up, slagging off my trampy clothes and my hair. Then they pushed it a bit further. We were making these puppets, making the heads out of papier-mâché, and one of these boys tested to see if it was hard yet by whacking it over my head. It was fucking sore. That’s when I snapped and went ‘Fuck off!’ and pushed one of them away. And they didn’t bug me again.

Other than that, I didn’t get hassled in school. I certainly didn’t get hassled by any older boys, because of my brother.

You remember me saying that my brother got a reputation as somebody that you didn’t want to fuck with. I’ll tell you what he was like. When I first got to secondary school and the teachers were reading out the names to see who was who, they’d all say, ‘Brian … Limond. Limond? Any relation to David Limond? You’re his brother? I see. Then we’ll have to keep our eyes on you then, won’t we?’ He was like that. I’d be having to prove to the teachers that I was a good boy. I wanted to do well, I was into my computers and that. It was a wee bit embarrassing to begin with, but the pros outweighed the cons when it came to an older boy having a go.

I was in third or fourth year, by which point David had left school. And I was waiting at the bus stop after school, along with everybody else. There was some older boy that had just joined the school, because he’d been expelled from another. I’d see him in the morning, at the bus stop to go to school. He was a shady wee hard guy that would always wear a grey tartan scarf around his mouth, and I’d wonder who he was.

Anyway, at this bus stop after school, he hooked my jaw. He took a dislike to me, an argument started, then he hooked my jaw. He knew I wasn’t hard. He hooked it in front of everybody, and I just left the bus stop and walked home.

I told David about it, I grassed the guy right up. I said he had a grey tartan scarf, and David knew exactly who he was.

The next morning, when I was at the bus stop to go to school, I saw the guy. His face was done in. He didn’t look like he needed the hospital or anything, but it was more than a black eye.

He knew I was there, but he didn’t say anything. I didn’t rub it in. I was a bit embarrassed. But, you know, it was good.

So to answer your question, no, I wasn’t bullied in school, not really. I didn’t get into fights either. I avoided them. I was a bit of a shitebag, really. There was a hard boy in my class who once offered to fight me, and I just said naw. A few months later, he offered to fight this other boy, the biggest in our year, one of these boys that was more like a man. The man-boy accepted, and the hard boy knocked his two front teeth out.

I was a shitebag, and I’m glad.