Monday, March 27, 2006

Don't make me angry, you wouldn't like me...

when I'm angry.
We were yip yapping over at Barney's gaff the other day http://selfunemployed.blogspot.com/
And he was somewhat cranky and irritated by, of all things, hand shaking in church. Docy -http://capetorio.blogspot.com/ added his own slice of spice to the mix, I told my own story of the horror of bearded hippies and hand actions in songs, then Binty-http://averagetosser.blogspot.com/ came along and blew us out of the water with a tale of religion, spirits, laying hands and tongues of Babel. Terrific.

Ladies and gentlefolk, may I present to you the one, the only, as French Gay would say, 'she, zis one, eez the beeegeeest bitch of zem all'.
Sister Mary, principal, head nun, sadist. She ran a convent and Catholic boarding school with an iron fist. She intimidated, bullied and was clearly a bit touched in the head.
I was 13.
It was my first year of boarding school and I hated it with a vengence. I hated the food, the uniform, the other girls, the stuffy classrooms, basketball, the nuns, did I mention the girls?

I knew the first day it was going to end badly when the Matron introduced me to a tall slitty-eyed girl from Carlow and said we were to be bunk mates.
Matron smiled and left us alone.
'I bags bottom bunk.' Slitty said.
'I don't give a fuck where you sleep.' I said.
We eyed each other up. She was tall and strong looking. Used to getting her own way. Mirror mirror on the wall, who's the biggest brat of all?
We were grouped together, twelve to a dorm, eleven 1st years and one 6th form girl who would be our 'friend/adviser' and keep us out of trouble.
It was terrible. Every where I went, Slitty went too. We were in the same class, at the same table in the ref, even on the same goddamned basketball team. We couldn't seem to avoid spending time together so naturally we spent endless hours tormenting each other instead.
Tension was building.
One night, after lights out, she kept repeatedly kicking the bottom of my mattress. I had thrown her wash bag out the window earlier so she was mad and she knew I hated this.
'Stop kicking the bed.' I said after a while.
'Make me.' she said.
After some more minutes of constant steady kicking, I lost it. I mean I actually, really, full on, lost it.
I leaped out of my bunk, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her out of bed. Then we proceeded to kick the living shit out of each other all around the dorm. We fought like demons. We thew vicious punches, clawed, kicked, fell. It was primal, no quarter given, none asked for. Idiot girls were crying around us.
It was wonderful.
The form girl, big bovine lass for Waterford, panicked when we ignored her cries of 'lads lads, come on, ah lads, stop.' She couldn't seperate us, we were absolutely locked in combat.
So she ran and got Matron.
The upshot of it all was we were hauled down stairs to the main principal's office.
We sat in the outer office, Matron between us. My eye was starting to swell and Slitty's mouth was bloody from one super punch I thrown.
Sister Mary arrived in her dressing gown.
We had never seen her without her head piece. her hair was short, her eyes brutal.
We were terrified.
She hauled us into her office, and made us kneel in front of her desk. She told Matron to go and then she ripped through us, lecturing on and on about 'controlling the evil within', she said we must 'fight against the darkness', rise up and 'strike out against the forces that tempt you from the path'.
'What would Jesus do?'she demanded. 'What would he do with you two girls? What would he do? Tell me Jesus, what must I do?'
She paced back and forth as she spoke, occasionally grabbing us by the back of the neck and forcing our heads down
At this stage, Slitty and I exchanged glances. We were beginning to wonder. My knees and back were sore, my head ringing and the adrenaline starting to seep away. But she just wouldn't stop talking, on and on.
Slitty weaved a bit, time passed, but still Sister Mary raved. I tried to lower back on my legs, but she grabbed me again and forced me to kneel straight.
Slitty was trembling for the effort to remain upright, I was starting to feel dizzy.
Sister Mary showed no sign of slowing. She was enjoying our discomfort and humiliation too much to stop.
What choice did I have?
'SHUT UP!'
She stopped. She stared.
'What did you say?'
I got unsteadily to my feet. 'We said we were sorry, we said we were sorry.' I roared at her, crying now in fright, but furious too.
'How dare you.' she said in a really low voice, 'You will not speak to me, you will kneel and-' and then ladies and gentlemen, I said...
'Ah fuck off.'
I can't tell you what happened after that because it is a bit of a blur, but I can tell you that it was the end of boarding school one. I managed to get through another one, but that's a whole other story.

22 comments:

  1. FMC - Bravo - your post was pure delight! I was an utter coward at school - I wish I could go back and undo some of the humiliations heaped upon my head by nuns. I wish I had had the nerve to tell them to fuck off. It has left me with a hatred of all authority figures. These day I am a bit more to the other extreme - I react very quickly to anyone trying to tell me what to do - anarchy rules, ok! Those black crows have a lot to answer for.

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  2. Great post Fmc.,there comes a time when only a good "FUCK OFF" will do.

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  3. oh SB, I was ALWAYS in trouble in school. I had 'ringleader' tagged on to me from the word go. I admit that I was a total brat, very rebellious. But they pushed my buttons. If something made sense, fine, but what the hell difference did it make if I wore two rings or not, or if my tie was loose?
    I had a stand up row with one Hitler of a nun about a Steven King book she tried to confiscate. I wouldn't give it to her as what I read in my own cubicle was none of her damn business. She then found out- somehow- that I had loaned it to a friend of mine and so she wrote a note home to my mother suggesting I was spreading 'porn' through the school.
    Shit like that drove me insane. Other than that I rather liked boarding school.

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  4. I had "The Gingerbread Man" confiscated off me in School.Mind you it was all the porn we had in those days.

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  5. FMC, after that I promise never to offend you again. Report you to the police and stuff like that, I mean.

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  6. Er, okay Footie. Thanks.

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  7. as john waters once said, "i thank god i was raised catholic, so sex will always be dirty."

    perhaps you should *thank* Sister Mary.

    [sorry, but i got tangented by "slitty."]

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  8. I would like to *thank* her, I would like to *thank* her with the back of my hand, the bully. I hate bullies.

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  9. So do I, Ms Cat, especially those who specialise in intimidating children. As Aussie Tim would say, that Sheila Mary needed a good, long, hard.......talking to. "Ah fuck off" was great. "Ah get fucked" might have been even better.

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  10. Bullies are a weird breed, GB. They think they can get away with everything, and then when someone stands up to them they completely wig out.
    My earliest school brawl involved me kicking a little bitch as hard as I could on the shin when she put a 'slow learners' wooly hat under the tap and then shoved it on his head soaking. I think I was in baby infants and I actually remember the rage I felt when he started to cry. And then the sense of injustice I felt when I got in trouble.
    Meh, it was worth it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

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  11. FMC, I have always had respect for you but it just leapt up about 500%! Telling a nun to fuck off? How fucking awesome is that!

    I wish you'd been around to do the same at my 'healing'...

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  12. I have always had a limit, Binty. No matter how much shit I got in to after.

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