Blood.

I work in the employee benefits industry.  One of my functions is to facilitate the implementation of various benefit plans.  I receive many enrollment forms and lists of employees and because I’m terribly nosey I tend to pour over the names of the participants and the names of the children.

***
I think it was 8th grade, though it may have been 7th, when I had a boyfriend who lived three towns away from me.  One of the towns between our homes had a main street with many stores, eateries and a parking deck behind it that was good for making out in.  I met quite a few boys walking up and down that strip after school, on weekends and all summer long.  Most of them were interested in my much prettier friends and it didn’t take long for the boys to figure out that I was a drag compared to the other girls.  Every now and again though, one of the boys would fancy me and we’d begin a courtship.

How would a tween boy court me?  Well, we’d talk on the phone and find places to make out.  We would only go to first base though, because, as I mentioned, I was kind of a drag.

I certainly wouldn’t want to divulge the identity of some kid I used to kiss, even though he probably doesn’t remember me.  For the sake of anonymity and to keep this story moving, let’s call him Joey Bagadonuts.  I grew up not too far from the land of the Sopranos, so wandering around the streets half of the kids I met were named Joey.  While this is not his name, please just take me at my word that this is a very appropriate alias.

One afternoon, we set a date for him to meet me at my middle school.  He was going to walk over four miles just to hang out with me.  This made me like him more, even though I had been growing increasingly bored by him.  I didn’t think he was very smart or particularly funny or even cute.  At that age, my standards were pretty low and as long as a boy met the requirement of liking me, I’d go out with him.

He showed up at my school with a friend.  The friend set about flirting with my friends while I made it a point to hang on Joey so everyone would know he was my boyfriend.  I probably giggled like an idiot.  He started showing off with feats of strength and general asshattery that middle school boys partake of to show they are better than one another.

Joey trying to prove he was more man than the boys from my school was about the most disgusting display I could imagine.  I made up my mind that despite his affection for me, when I got home that afternoon I was going to call him and dump him.

Somehow, in the midst of his displays of machismo, he cut his thumb.  He made sure we all knew how litttle it hurt and he proudly held out his hand while we marveled at his bleeding finger.  He squeezed it and a blood bubble rose up out of it, forming a near perfect orb on his flesh.  The girls were squealing that it was gross while the boys tried to protect them from this grotesque sight.  Joey put his finger in his mouth and licked the blood away, laughing.

The thought that he was going to try to kiss me later practically made me vomit on the spot.  He asked me if I had a Band-Aid, but I did not.  He continued to suck his thumb and the bleeding slowed.  I decided I’d had enough of this tom foolery and said I was going home.  He looked at his thumb again and before I knew what was happening, he left a bloody thumbprint on the brown paper cover of my English book. It wasn’t an accident, he didn’t just smudge his blood-finger in an effort to perform an act of chivalry.  He deliberately wiped his DNA on the book cover.

I let him walk me home, but as he leaned in for he kiss, I turned away and went in my house, leaving him standing on the sidewalk asking what he did to piss me off.  I simply told him he did nothing. He eventually started walking away.  I called him before he had time to get home and left a message on his answering machine requesting that he not bother to call me anymore.

Rather than re-cover my English book, I circled the blood and wrote next to it, “Joey’s blood.  Do NOT Touch!”  Then I crossed out all the hearts with our initials in them that were also on the book.  I left the blood there so that I could continue to get angry about it, day in and day out, for the rest of that year.  It turned from red to brown over those last weeks of school and when I finally ripped off the cover to return the book to the teacher, I was so glad I wouldn’t have to avoid Joey’s blood stain any longer.  It was a relief, really.  I was finally released from my this passive-aggressive grudge I was holding.

***
The company I work for is only a few miles from where I grew up and we have a fair amount of local clients.  As I was sorting through a stack of forms from one of these clients, one jumped out at me.

Employee Name:  Joey Bagadonuts

Thankfully, the forms had been scanned and emailed to me by my client and I could safely touch them without wondering what Joey had wiped on his.

***
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~~~

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47 Responses to “Blood.”

  1. Gia says:

    Haha wow, it’s crazy how a name will bring back such a vivid memory! Also, ick. :X

  2. Haha, I know! It was seriously nasty.

  3. Delilah Love says:

    Boys are gross. Haha!

  4. carrie says:

    AHAHAHA. Omg can you imagine how mortified he’d be to know you still remembered that!

    What an impression he left! LOL

  5. IASoupMama says:

    Oh, what a coincidence! And ick about the blood tattoo on your bopk cover.

  6. Love the alias. I had one of those guys too….we were very similar growing up, though I was far away from the Jersey Shore…

  7. Love the alias. It’s amazing what memories are attached to a person when you hear their name years later.

  8. Lisa Nolan says:

    This comment has been removed by the author.

  9. Joe says:

    I can remember that I went to middle school, but that’s about it.

  10. Your memory is amazing!!!
    I can’t even remember if I’m wearing pants half the time. Haha.
    I applaud you!

  11. Kenja Purkey says:

    Ewww. Just. Ewww. Thankfully Joey and his questionable hygiene are a part of your past! :)

    I’m laughing at other comments on here. I can remember that as a 5 year old I had a boyfriend named Super Duper Charlie Cooper (yes, that was his name) and that his mom made us peanut butter and sweet pickle sandwiches for snacks, but I don’t remember what happened yesterday. :)

  12. Seriously GROSS. Boys are gross. And I have to say that one of the parts of this that totally got me was the brown paper bag covered textbook, because yeah, totally. Great post!

  13. Laurel says:

    Maybe he was marking you? ew!

  14. I LOVE a story that jumps between time and place. It keeps me wondering how everything will tie together. Nice job!

  15. Kristin says:

    So…not a vampire fan?

  16. Cindy says:

    Great story! I was wondering how it was all going to tie together. Luckily, you were safe from his bodily fluids in the second part.

  17. i have a memory like this too. people get a little weirded out by what i remember. so funny to have him back in your life in just a random way :)

  18. Blast from the past! That’s totally gross though. Wiping blood on someone’s book? Nast!

  19. momfog.com says:

    Poor Mr. Bagadonuts. Can you imagine how terrible it would be to be remembered for something gross or stupid you did in middle school, for all eternity? Yikes.

    • This is true. I’m sure he doesn’t know it happened anymore. I wonder if he tells a story about a girl who made him walk 4 miles just to dump him because he cut his thumb.

  20. Would’ve been cool if Mr. Bagadonuts had left a trace of powdered sugar or glaze on his forms.

    The blood stain was gross. Today you would be quarantined for carrying that around.

  21. Ok. eww. When I picked up my 12-year-old daughter from camp yesterday, she said something about the general jerkiness of boys and I thought “Hey, I should show her this post!” She loved it and felt validated that this is just boy behavior, and not specific to the boys she knows.

  22. Great story! I love the things that we hang onto from our youth. So curious how he earned the Bagadonuts alias.

  23. I don’t use the phrase “general asshattery” nearly enough. I shall have to remedy that.

    And if I’m reading this correctly, smearing blood on a girl’s belongings is NOT the way to win her heart? No wonder I was so unpopular in junior high!

    Very funny and well written post. Thanks for sharing!

    • I’m not sure if I’ve ever actually said general asshattery before, but I love it. I’m glad you enjoyed it too! And no, that was not the way to win my heart :)

      Thank you for the kind words and for reading!

  24. This is a great story. I’m sitting here wondering what it means that he has turned up in your life again after so many years and after letting go of your “passive-aggressive grudge.” Really well done!

    • Thank you! I think it’s probably the universe reminding me of what a dummy I am that I let things like a bloodstain anger me so greatly. Either that or a reminder that I hang around way too close to where I grew up!

  25. Boys are just born… different.

  26. Adrienne says:

    Oh my! The whole circling of the DNA-Too funny!

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