Once upon a time, there was an overweight, asthmatic 7th grader. Well, thats every 7th
grader now-days, but back in my day, that was a bit of an oddity. I went to a small school in a
small town. I was already 5'8 and towered above just about everyone except for a 6' girl named
Rachel Ledmeyer. I wore the same Eeyore hoodie ever day of my life... this should say volumes
about how awesome I was. Rachelle Tedmeyer was also a big girl, and she danced ballet, and
always showed her 'dancers calves' to anyone who'd look. And in ageless playground tradition
she got made fun of, a lot. And in ageless I-went-to-a-school-surrounded- by-cornfields-and-yet-
here-I-am-writing-a-book tradition, I too got made of, a lot. The difference between Rachelle
Tedmeyer and I was that she did not have a big mouth. It might have been because she had a
bigger brain. Various kids ranging from jocks to... All we had was jocks, and later a lot of
pregnant chicks, but now just jocks. Followed her 6' frame around the halls making Chewbaca
noises and calling her the Yeti. She wasn't that hairy and I'm pretty sure she had never been to
the Himalayas, let alone lived with indigenous wildlife in subzero temperatures, but alas, I
defended her. We had each others backs in the way that only true outcasts can, buy standing up
for one another, but never actually associating.
One day, the Yeti and I were headed off to lunch. Now, let me preface this buy asking you a
few questions 1. Have you ever been fat? 2. If you answered yes to number one, ya know that
gap in the back of your jeans when you sit down? Its not an obscene gap, but it's there. That
one? Yeah well I got pop poured down it while eating lunch with the Yeti. I was sitting there
eating what was probably pizza because it's only digestible thing we had at school, and I felt it. I
sat up and turned around to face Josh Noore, some douche bag wannabe skater, who I had
never talked to EVER for more than five minutes. He had bleached hair, and his skin was red all
over punctuating his now smiling blue eyes. I was astonished. I didn't know what to do. I think he
said something about how he was just joking, and I, crying at this point, probably spat a few
choice words out.
The Yeti walked me out of the lunchroom and into the hallway repeatedly asking if I wanted
her to go to the office with me to call my mom. I was livid and definitely not calling my mom so
she let me borrow her jacket to wrap around my waist. Which would've been really sweet and all
if she didn't (unbeknownst to me at this point) happen own a hoard of cats. Cats that I was, and
still am, severely allergic to.
I was sitting in math class when my eyes started to water and itch. Not just like oh, my eyes
are tired and itchy, like oh my God, do you have a spoon for gauging? itchy. My nose also
started to run like I myself couldn't. And then... I felt that distinct, this is a big one, breath
shortage. This wasn't a 'Oh where's my inhaler?' asthma attack. This was 'Oh is that an
ambulance?' asthma attack. I can't think of anything that triggered it. I wasn't in a dire, fight or
flight situation in the past few hours. Flight had always been the known route of handling the pop
down the pants situation. I hadn't ran into any chain smokers in the bathroom, and I hadn't had
any physical exertion in a good half hour. However, while contemplating raising my hand for
medical assistance, I looked down and saw hundreds HUNDREDS of little, tiny, cat hairs. I
suddenly found myself in math class wearing a coat of kittens, which sound awesome. It isn't. I
figured if I got the coat off I would maybe feel better. So I got up to go to the bathroom and gave
Rachel her coat back in study hall, wet pants be damned. I handed it to her and asked if she
perhaps, maybe, possibly owned a cat. She enthusiastically replied that she had 'ohmygosh,
like 12'. And a few minutes of agonizing breathlessness later, I was on the phone to mom
attempting to relay my epic story of defeat between baited breaths.
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