Pathetic Geek Stories

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When I was in seventh grade, I had a crush on a cute popular girl who shared several of my classes. One day, our teacher decided she would show us how to do a folk dance. Being an overweight nerd, I of course sat on the sidelines and watched. My teacher saw this and picked a girl from the group for me to dance with--of course it was the girl I had a crush on. I thought it was great to dance with her, but as soon as we finished she immediately went to the sink and washed her hands!

—Andy D.

First of all, I'm a guy.


One morning while arriving at school in my car I misjudged a curve entering the parking lot and hit my wheel so hard against the curb of the sidewalk that it ripped a gash in my tire making a loud noise. That was pretty embarrassing in itself given that there were a lot of people around to see it happen and then watch me try to park my car riding on a busted tire. Then I made my way to the school from the parking lot trying to remain unnoticed. But that wasn't the worst part.


At the end of the day when I went back to my car the tire was flat on the ground. I was never a gearhead or much into cars so I'd never had to change a car tire before, but I had the basic idea of how to do it, however when I went to unscrew the lug nuts holding the wheel I was too weak. Hard as I pulled on the wrench I couldn't get the lugs loose. So I had to call AAA and a half hour later a big mean overweight mechanic came over in a huge loud tow truck. The most embarrasing part was having to stand there next to the rumbling tow truck like some kind of damsel in distress waiting for this big mechanic guy, bent over, showing the crack of his butt, to change the tire for me, while people walked around and stared at me thinking I was a big wuss.

- C V.

In school I always acted very interested in whatever the teachers were showing us, because I could tell they got a lot of satisfaction from that.


In 6th grade, our teacher had an aquarium in the classroom. During free times I would often pay this aquarium attention, to let my teacher know it was a worthwhile educational device. One day, while watching the fish, I decided to tap gently on the side of the aquarium, thinking this would demonstrate an even greater level of interest.


Almost immediately my teacher bellowed: "Scott! What are you doing?? Would you like it if I hit the side of your house with a baseball bat?!?"


For the rest of the day he referred to me as "the person whose house I'm going to hit with a baseball bat tonight."

—Scott Y.

In fourth grade, I attended a predominatly "rich kid" school. This was the source of a catalogue of pathetic geek stories but this, by far, is the most pathetic and geekiest. Not being of much monetary stature, I was often teased and really didn't fit in. In an attempt to be seen as cool, I (sadly) started to mimick the phrases and actions of my friends. My favorite was this girl Ashley's "get out of my facial" (which had actually been stolen from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie). Anyway, in gym class one day, we were playing volleyball. The fifth graders were watching us and when my team won, one of the cool kids on my team, Holly, started to blow them kisses and wave. Kind of like Miss America. The fifth graders thought this was funny and laughed WITH her. I, seeing this, did the exact same thing. She turned to look at me and glared The fifth graders found my imitation exceadingly more hilarious, due to my akwardness, and laughed ,much harder, AT me. From then on I was known as a copier.


Shaking my head in shame,
Marissa M.

Hi! This is something I was very upset by when I was little, but I think my parents' reaction to it made me feel even more pathetic than before.


When I was in second grade, my family moved to a small suburban town in Massachusetts. I was a scrawny child with massive, thick pink plastic glasses. On my first day of school, my glasses steamed up and I staggered blindly down the aisle, unable to find a seat. An older kid in the back of the bus yelled, "Hey! Helen Keller! Over here!" I was horribly traumatized--when I finally told my parents, years later, they thought it was terribly amusing. "That's pretty clever," my mother said. "I didn't even know who Helen Keller was when I was that age."

When I was in seventh grade, I used to hang out with a girl who had a really, really nasty older brother who harassed me whenever I went to her house. Usually he shoved me into walls and made disgusting insinuations about my sexuality, but one time he threatened to "pop my head like a zit," then he flexed his biceps in my face, just to make sure I got the point, and repeated, "LIKE A ZIT!" Anyway, I used to daydream about someone holding him down while I gave him the beating he richly deserved. Then one day, that dream came true! He was being so vicious and mean that his own mother sneaked up behind him, pinned his arms back, and told me to punch him as hard as I could. Much as I wanted to give him a bloody nose he'd never forget, I was afraid that if I didn't hit him hard enough (I was kind of whimpy), he'd just pick on me even more for being a weakling. So I just stood there until his mom let him go.

when i was 12, i got to attend a special summer program for gifted high school students. i was really nervous because everybody there was at least two years older than me.


i was rooming with three 15-year-old-girls who were really nice to me. they taught me card games and talked about boys with me. then, during the last week of the program, i was walking down the stairs to the dining hall when i heard them all talking to another group of girls. they were making fun of my clothes, my flat chest, and the fact that i hadn't even started to shave my legs. they told the other girls they wished i would die so they didn't have to "babysit" me anymore. i was mortified.


i locked myself in the bathroom and cried for hours. the dorm counselor was furious at my roommates and made each one apologize to me from the other side of the door and tell me how "special" i was. when i finally came out, they were so mad that i got them in trouble that they put shaving cream in my suitcase and gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the time we were there.

In the sixth grade, I was a late bloomer who read comic books. As a girl living in a rural town, this made me quite the anomaly. One day some of my friends who were "cooler" than I was came over to hang out. When I left the room, they rifled through my desk and found some comics I had tried to draw.


I returned to find them laughing and jeering at my mediocre plotline and large breasted women I emulated from the X-Men. I went into the other room and cried, and they never came over again.

I moved to a new school in 8th grade, and decided I was too "adult" now for my nickname, Jamie, and changed to my real first name, Leo. The first day a bunch of kids teased me for having a stupid name. The next day someone called me a "tard" (short for retard). Then someone put the two together, and from that day on I was known as Leotard. I changed back to Jamie the next day.

In junior high school, I was ashamed because we were poor. We were on welfare and lived in low-income housing in an otherwise affluent neighborhood. So I lied about where I lived; I gave even my best friends a fake address. If we were dropped off by someone's parents or whatever, I'd make them leave me at the corner, and then I'd hide until they drove off.


Once a friend and his dad were picking me up and I missed them at the corner; they actually went to the fake address I'd given. When we found each other, and they asked me about it, I STILL lied -- I told them the old woman they'd talked to was my grandmother and that she was senile.

Back in 7th grade, I went to school with a really bad cold. During study hall, I was reading a "Hardy Boys" mystery, and because of my cold I was sniffling, wiping my nose as well as my runny eyes. After about 15 minutesone of the most popular girls in school turned around to me and said "what in the world are you reading". I showed her my Hardy Boys book (The Ghost of Skeleton Rock or some b.s. like that). She immediately turned to yet another popular girl and proclaimed me a "weird freak". She thought that I was emotionally moved by the Hardy Boys!
-J.N. (guy)

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.

In my school, the girls were merciless. Their insults were far more hurtful than anything the jocks could think up. They went out of their way to pick on me, even though I tried to avoid them.


In Spanish class, I sat next to an attractive girl who was too smart to be popular. She was always nice to me.


On the last day of class, she invited me to make out with her. I was so unaccustomed to being liked by a female that I didn‚t know how to respond. I just stared at my desk. When class let out, I got up and left.


I never saw her again.

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