Personally, I had some great moments on the bus, including seeing my first nekkid girl parts thanks to Michael Perry:
Michael was one of those kids that nobody knew what grade he was in. “Class of 1968-1990.” Starting in 3rd grade he was shaving while driving to school. And by “shaving while driving to school” I mean “he founded the Black Panthers.” But I will always have him to thank for the best reason of reasons: seeing my first naked titties and pussy. No, not his. Sixth grade, back of the bus, __________. Have no idea how he did it, but it became a daily ritual – on the ride home, thanks to Michael asking her to, she’d show us her tits and hairless pussy (this was 1983, pre-Brazilian, people.) First she’d show us her tits, then unbutton her jeans and lower her airplanes and clouds bubblegum drawers. The first Girl Gone Wild. Mike, wherever you are, you are remembered fondly. And hey, what young gal wouldn't wanna show her as-yet unfouled nether regions to this cool cat:
My usual seat was with my best friend Mark (Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuufffff!!!) and his older brother Wendell. Jesus, it’s hard to imagine a time when you could sit in one of those seats three across, isn’t it? Today I couldn’t fit my last three fucking Kam Sing deliveries in one of those seats. Ah well. Wendell was in high school when Mark and I were in first grade, so that meant that since we sat with him every day he had to make our lives hell. Wendell was also a really nice guy and none too bright, so unfortunately for him the best thing he could come up with throughout the entire year was to sit on the aisle end of the seat and then refuse to let us out until we were the last ones. Ooooooohhh Wendell, you’re scaring us!!! Dirk Young is in the back inventing reverse racial discrimination and this is the best Wendell can come up with.
Our bus driver was Mrs. Hickman, a sweet old black lady who weighed about 200 pounds and said maybe 4 words in the 8 years we were “together.” Her main jobs seemed to be 1) get the cops, 2) have a small bag of candy for us each Halloween and 3) dump the sawdust-like stuff onto the puke every day after someone would throw up in the aisle. Anything else, we were on our own. I was on the school bus coming home when someone ran out of their house and told us that Marvin Gaye had been shot. Same thing when Reagan got shot. I also learned what reel to reel porn looks like, and what a metal Happy Days lunch box looks like after the big kids decided to beat the shit out of it for a while.
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