If You Really Like a Guy, Hit Him :: Personal Narrative Relationships Essays

If You Re wholey Like a Guy, Hit HimI dont concoct wanting to punch Jeff. I remember wanting Jeff to ask me out. How I got into the position of hitting him is somewhat of a mystery to me.Jeff Stanford was the cutest guy in our third grade class. He had blonde hair, sick midriffs-the whole shabang He even wore tapered, stone washed jeans (it was the eighties, this was cool). He was my friend. I was, of all things, a tomboy. I ran faster then the boys. I could beat them all at tether ball. My hair was shorter then any of the boys, and I had the biggest crush on Jeff. Along with being head over heels in love with Jeff, I was a die hard Madonna fan. I had her tapes and even a sweatshirt with her picture on it. Jeff was not a Madonna fan. I thought this was something we could resolve out. Although we could not spend endless hours reciting lines from Like a Virgin together, we could always play tetherball. Tethe ball, at least at Pearson Elementary, was the game of champions. I loved t o play, only at early recess the balls werent always up yet and Jeff, Kelly and myself sometimes had to make do with a rousing game of tag. This was definitely a tag day.RUUUUUUUN Kelly, he is right behind you Huh? questioned Kelly. Tagged you, tagged you taunted Jeff.Ouch, I screamed. I have something in my eye. I was completely serious. There is something in my eye and it hurts I kept trying to get, whatever it was, out of my eye using the sleeve of my Madonna sweatshirt. Jeff was trying to help, in some way, but doing a piss-poor origin of it. What happened? he asked. Did Madonna stick her arm out and poke you in the eye? Hahahahaaaahaaaha Boys are so dumb.No. It was all I could say, I didnt have any witty come backs, but come on, he could have left me alone Why are you picking on me? I asked. I wished he would just leave, but no, he kept taunting me. You are so mean LEAVE I shouted. For some unknown causal agent he didnt get it My eye still hurt, recess was almost over, and I decided I hated Jeff...WHAAAAPI socked him. A right fisted jab, right away up the gut, full third grade force, and Jeff Stanford, my crush, went down.