Sick Burn

I don’t know why I thought of this today, but I did.

This is the story of, hands-down, the sickest burn I ever received.

I was in computer class in, I believe, fourth grade. This was the class where you’d play Word Racer games and other crap on old Mac computers. If you were lucky, you got to play Oregon Trail and subsequently die of dysentery. Anyway, we were doing some pointless busy work in the form of a survey about ourselves, and one of the questions was “Would you prefer to live in the city or in the country?” For reasons unbeknownst to my current self, I picked the country.

Sitting next to me was Laura Fields. Laura leaned over, read the answer on my screen and said: “Go milk the cows, farmboy.”

Then she just turned back to filling out her own stupid survey. And that moment is forever seared into my memory. Oddly enough, it’s there as a happy memory. Possibly because it marks the last time a girl spoke to me for 8 years, but more likely because it is the simplest, most straight-forward and yet totally cutting insult I’ve ever received. A Beethoven’s Fifth of grade-school put-downs.

Well played, Laura.

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