I took Freshman English 4 times.
I failed it the first year about halfway through the semester. I was doing good man, until they got into the poetry. Fuck that shit. I can deal with damned near everything else they had so far, but I don’t do poetry. I ain’t that way. So I quit going to class (I need to say right now that the attendance system at KAHS in Kaiserslautern West Fucking Germany was lax enough even a knuckledragger could beat it). Pops was pissed as hell when he found out at mid year report cards, but hey, kicking my ass wasn’t going to change that fact that I failed and had to re-take it. I mean I still got my ass kicked but what was done was done. Made him feel better though.
The second year I made it two weeks. I was sitting in class with a bunch of freshmen that were acting up and the fucking teacher pointed at me and said I was a prime example of what happens when you don’t apply yourself. Okay, I realized that re-taking the class was my fault but apparently the teacher decided a little public humiliation was also in order. So I humiliated her and that got me 2 weeks off and kicked out of the class.
The third year I didn’t even show up, man.
So here I am, a fucking SENIOR, and I gotta take Freshman English to graduate. My Senior year was in Georgia and the military was big into racial integration at the time and trying to save a dime so they bussed my lily white ass along with another 30 or so terrified white kids all the way across town to a fucking ghetto high school (shout out to all Spencer High Alumni!) in Columbus. It was the second or third year it was integrated and it was 85% black. Ghet-toe black. Stand-a-good-chance-of-getting-cut black. Just so I can re-take Freshman English and be a high school graduate in only four years. But I passed it. Fourth time’s a charm, baby.
I got the last laugh though. I got myself kicked out of high school the week before graduation.
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