Pathetic Geek Stories

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When I was in high school I was really overweight. I didn’t have a lot of friends and gym class was especially awful for me. The one sport I did enjoy playing and was somewhat good at was volleyball. One day playing volleyball, I really got into it and started to enjoy myself. I must have zoned out because I crashed right into a very popular girl, as we both went for the ball. I was fine, but she ended up passing out! I was mortified, especially when I heard all the comments under people’s breath about how “’The Tank’ nearly killed Dixie.”

Here's an example of naivete. Roach clipMy freshman year at the big high school, I sat in my geophysical science class behind a girl who was an upperclassman or at least a sophomore, and she was a stoner or grit or whatever you called them. She seemed kind of mean and sarcastic, so I didn't talk to her. But one day I noticed she had a pin on her purse, you know, the round circular ones with messages that were popular then. She had several, but this one said, "Ask me if I care." I actually thought it was sincere, and wondered if I had misjudged her, that beneath the harsh exterior, she was just a nice person, who you could reach out to if you were down. Thank god I never did, because it dawned on me awhile later what it really meant, and that she probably would've laughed in my face and publicly made fun of me. I am always relieved I didn't open my big mouth.

-Jill E.


P.S. She usually wore a roach clip in her hair, decorated by feathers and beads hanging on leather strings. Do you know these? It was all the rage in Arizona in the early 80s, and I had some myself as hair clips without knowing what their real purpose was until years later. God, I was dumb.

During my freshman year of high school, I was casually buying a soda from the school store, a hole cut into the main hallway. While I was at the counter, Matt, one of the guys who thought he was too cool for everyone else, but about the same size as a football player, yanked my Umbros down around my ankles to reveal my glow-in-the-dark neon green smiley faced boxer shorts. Red faced and shaking, I turned and yelled "really? You like seeing guys underwear?" That was when I realized that I was no match for the physical beating I was about to ensue. I dropped my soda and ran for my dear life, avoiding Matt in the hallways for the next year until he graduated.

When I was playing little league baseball, my team won a free trip to see the Chicago Cubs play the Philadelphia Phillies. Since I would be in the city, she was worried that something bad would happen. I might get hit on the head with a baseball and not know who I was, in case I needed a blood transfusion, my coach would not know my blood type, etc. So to ensure I would receive appropriate medical attention, and remember who I was, she took a permanent marker (black) and wrote my name, address, phone number, blood type and social security number on my stomach in big letters. Of course I was embarrassed, and when one of my friends saw something through my shirt (it was summer) everyone, including the coach, laughed at me and called me names. I know this is a weird story, but usually when I'm at a party or drinking with people it goes over as a good laugh story. A pretty sad, but definitely geeky story.

I was so uncool in 8th grade that there were 7th and even some 6th graders on my bus that were cooler than me. I sat pretty close to them though because of assigned seating by our busdriver. One day, one of the cool kids was handing out pixie sticks to the other cool kids. I gathered some nerve and stood up, turned around said "hey man, can i have one" trying to act like we were friends, or at least acquaintances. he looked at me and yelled "bitch sit your ass down!" i mumbled something incoherent and sat down. for the rest of middle school and all of high school (untill i got a car) i listened to my cd player and never talked to anyone on the bus again.
-J.B. (guy)

When I was in 6th grade I was in the awkward stage to say the least: glasses, zits, bad perm, lite blue cotton pants rolled. I was very aware of my nerd state, but somehow I was pretty cocky sometimes too. I was hanging out in the library with a few friends, joking around and whispering jokes and feeling pretty cool. a 7th grader named Chris M. walked in the library and came by my friends and I. I thought the older cool guy was trying to hang out with me, until he looked me directly in the eye and said loudly in front of everyone: I HATE YOU, DEANNA. I was speechless and returned to quiet, still nerd-dom.

In high school, I was a straight A student, definitely a geek, but perhaps not quite pathetic.


Near the end of Senior year, I attended a pre-graduation dinner with several of my classmates. While standing in a group of relatively cool kids, I stated in no uncertain terms that after the lame dinner I wanted to get, and I quote, "Fucking Fried." To my surprise, they all looked at me in shock. I then turned around to see that my high school guidance counselor, who was so proud of me and my 4.0 GPA, staring at me disapprovingly.


Thanks, Eric


PS If you do happen to choose this story, I had the classic 80's Mullet at the time.

One day in the eighth grade our class went on a field trip. On the bus, I sat next to my friend Kevin, who was not as big a geek as me. He and I shared cassettes on our Walkman radios. At one point, Kevin went off the school bus to go to the restroom. One of the cooler kids, who had his own rock band, picked up Kevin's Walkman and found my mixed tape inside, which I had entitled "Oldies but Goodies". He and his friends justifiably laughed. They just put the tape back, and Kevin later returned, unaware that anything happened. The whole time, I just sat by, quietly embarassed.
-Matt R.

This is my story about why standing up for yourself is just a bullshit thing other tell geeks and nerds to do because they won't fucking get involved themselves and don't want to feel guilty about it.

Since grade 2, for reasons unknown to myself, I had been the largest child pariah the city of Vancouver has ever seen - people still talk about it to this day and I am now over twenty. I was a very friendly, very talkative, hyper kind of kid, etc., very smart, and all that, and, naturally, became the worst piece of shit other kids could encounter.

The story is this: in grade 4, all the students from Kerrisdale School Annex (K-3) started going to the main school a block away. Unfortunately, I was still the most picked on kid in the entire school. I guess I wanted to make a stand in this new enviroment. Since, grade 2, kids always picked on me. And I cried, etc., but never stood up to them, since they attacked in large packs and there was no one to help. Now, this pack thing is important to remember - no one ever stood up for me. Any insult about me suddenly became gospel truth - I am certain you have heard all this before. Think Welcome to the Dollhouse.
Okay, so fast forward to Mrs. Bradley's class in grade 4. One of the worst of my enemies, a kid named Bruce - not a nice guy, btw - was again in my class. Anyway, he was picking on me and I remembering very consciously deciding to stand up to this jerk.

As a result, we came to blows in the cloakroom with everyone else still in class and I ending up biting this guy in the head (no blood). Well, there was no clear winner or anything. But, instead of respecting me like all the television shows had advertised, as everybody has always told me, etc., now all the kids kept saying I had rabies and was even more miserable than before. I realized then that unless I became a total psycho or moved away, I would never win alone and anyone who tells you differently is full of bullshit (or if they do win, are lucky).

Anyway, hope this story makes some sense.

Sincerely yours,

When I was around nine years old I had a huge crush on this guy, Cole. I wrote him an anonymous love poem and made my dad put it in his mailbox during the wee hours of the night. A few days later I found the love poem torn up and thrown all over my front yard.

In 9th Grade, I was the "new kid" at my school. Because no one knew me from the past, I was a novelty, even to the "cool" kids, and I tried to be in their group. One of the cute girls in my English class even seemed to kinda like me, and we would flirt during class. About two weeks into the school year, my the English teacher had us reading "Romeo and Juliet" as a group. Not really a performance, just sitting at our desks, but with each part read aloud by one of the students. My teacher picked me to play Benvolio, a minor character who appears at the beginning of the story. Maybe I had seen too many Shakespeare plays on TV, but for whatever reason, as the reading began, I spoke my lines in an obnixious, overly-done fake English accent. I wasn't trying to be funny--I just assumed everyone would be reading their lines that way. I was mortified when the next kid read his lines in his everyday, normal voice (as did everyone else). After that, the cool kids labeled me a dork, and the cute girl acted like I didn't exist.
-Marc W.

My pathetic geek story isn't much of a story, but as I was a hopelessly awkward and pathetic geek all during junior high school (and well beyond), I think it qualifies. In seventh or eighth grade, I took a speech class where each student had to write a speech on a given subject and get up and present it in front of the class. For me, being very shy and self-conscious, public speaking was torture. On the day of my speech I was really nervous. I had my notes on 3" x 5" note cards and was ready to get up there and give my speech on pearl diving. When my turn came to speak, I frantically searched through all my pockets and notebooks, but I couldn't find my note cards. The teacher was watching me impatiently, and everyone was staring at me. Humiliated and embarrassed, I told the teacher I couldn't find my notes. She exasperatedly told me to give my speech the following day. Right after the notes fiasco, I noticed a couple of nogoodnik boys in the corner of the room laughing themselves silly. I didn't know why they were laughing, but I suspected they had been up to something. On the last day of school, about six months later, one of the boys told me that they had picked my notes up off my desk when I wasn't looking and thrown them out the third-story window. I should have said something, but I just stood there and looked at him like the geek that I was. Love your stories and drawings--it's great to know I'm not the only one!!
-Susie M.

In sixth-grade, my friend Mike and I were extremely unpopular and we'd often sit by ourselves at lunchtime. It was there that we'd get in strange conversions and drift off into our own little world, completely ignoring all the other people in the cafeteria. One day, we got on the topic of DANDRUFF. This led to a challenge between the two of us -- Who had the most? So we cleared off the table and started fluffing our hair, to see who could get up the highest pile of skin flakes. We played this game for several days until, Mr. Bradley, the bald-headed vice principal, walked up to the table and said "Gentlemen, what are you doing?"

We explained our game and he immediately led us to his office. After a thorough chewing out and telling us how disgusting the whole idea was, he sent us back to our class. (As an aside, he yelled at me especially for laughing and snickering through the whole thing. You see, Bradley was BALD! He couldn't have dandruff! Was he secretly envious of our dandruff situation? I don't know for sure, but I just had to laugh at him. I couldn't help it!) At the end of his lecture, Bradley meted out our punishment ... We had to take a note home to our parents explaining what we did and to write a multi-page essay on hygiene.
We both did, of course, because in sixth-grade you're scared of everyone, even bald-headed, dandruff-craving vice principals.

-John S.

When I was a junior in high school I had this big time crush on this girl in my algebra class. I was way too shy to actually talk to her, let alone ask her out. One day in class I was flipping through random pages in my math book. I thought to myself, "If the page number on the right side of the book is an odd number, she will say yes to me if I ask her out." I picked a random page and looked at the number in the bottom right hand corner - it was even - all of them were. Thats when I figured out I was a looser.


When I was in 6th grade, my friends and I got into this huge fight. It was basically me against them, so I knew I had to pull out the big guns if I was going to single-handedly beat them all in this war. During one particularly heated exchange I blurted out smugly: "So? Well my mom said that she doesn't like you guys!" I was sure that would do the trick. Instead of getting upset though, they started to laugh at me.


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