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The Gertie Page

What Readers Say About PGS:
"I'm very glad you do this… However, I must admit that looking at your site is a little like picking at a scab.
No—more like stabbing at an old scar or playing baseball with a phantom limb but actually hitting with the stump." —H.B.
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Recent Strips

3-10-08

 

I shared middle school wood shop class with three girls who liked to torment me... We were assigned to these four-person workbenches, and of course I was placed with them... They liked to put this tiny, bent, rusty stool in my assigned spot. They did this every day and I was forced to look like an idiot because there were no other stools available. They called it the reject stool or the loser stool. I decided to thwart them one day. I raced to shop class early and switched the loser stool to the place of the worst girl. When she showed up, we got into a tugging match. I knew I was stronger, so I held out... But she just let go of it. From then on, I just sat on the loser stool. I hated wood shop, and when we made boomerangs, mine didn't even work. Story submitted by Roz S.
2-9-08
As a sophomore in high school, I was a budding punk rocker and star math student. One day, these two cute punk girls from my math class asked me if I would tutor them for five dollars. So I went over to the home of one of them and spent an hour trying to do my job and get them to pay attention. They, meanwhile, talked about anything they could. Then one of them asked me if I wanted to read Playboy. Twelve years later, I realized: They were trying to seduce me. Story submitted by Bob B.
1-30-08
As one of the smallest and skinniest kids in ninth grade, I was very self-conscious about it. I looked about two years younger than my classmates, was too small to even be bullied (physically, that is), and no girls would consider me romantically. For some reason, my French teacher picked up on this. As we were learning dating-related vocabulary, she said to me¯™Óin French¯™Óstuff like, You probably don't go out on dates, and You haven't started dating yet, have you? The easily embarrassed type anyway, this just mortified and bewildered me. After the second or third time, one of the attractive girls tried to stick up for me by telling the teacher, falsely, that we were dating. The idea was so ridiculous that the whole class just burst out laughing, adding to my shame. Further underscoring my geekdom: I kept imagining I could stop time, remove all the teacher's clothes and restart time, so she would be just as embarrassed. Story submitted by Mike.