Compare and Contrast

Continuing the 365 Thought Provoking Questions Challenge. 


2. Who do you sometimes compare yourself to?

His name was Teddy, but everyone called him Nimrod. 

I first met Teddy when I went to the bathroom in an attempt to skip out of running a mile for PE class. I barricaded myself in a stall and noticed there were a pair of tennis shoes in the stall next to me. I figured they would leave eventually, but after a few minutes they didn't move and I didn't hear any straining grunts to indicate the poor sap was seriously ill.

I put my ear on the stall wall. "You okay in there?" I asked.

I saw the shoes shift ever so slightly. "Uh, yeah?"

"Are you constipated?"

"No."

I frowned. "Then what are you doing in there?"

"What are you doing?"

I paused. "Skipping PE."

A pause from the mysterious tennis shoes. "Huh. Me too."

At that moment, a small bond had formed. "Sweet."

I saw the shoes shift slightly and heard whoever they belonged to unlocking the stall door and opening it. I followed suit.

When I stepped out of the stall and saw him for the first time, I realized we were skipping PE for two totally different reasons. I was skipping PE  because I was lazy and simply didn't feel like running. Teddy was so awkward and nerdy looking that he might as well had been wearing a sign that said "I'm skipping PE because I don't want to get bullied".

Comparing myself to Teddy was like comparing night and day. While he was pale from staying indoors and genetics, my skin was dark from soaking up the sun while riding my bike around the neighborhood. His hair, while an interesting color, was curly and frizzy, with strands stick up in all directions, making his head appear to be on fire. I wasn't sporting a celebrity hair cut, but at least my dark locks were were securely combed down. He was a good foot taller than I, but my clothes fit properly and I didn't look like I had broom sticks for limbs. I was never the popular kid, but standing there next to Teddy, I felt like I was leagues above him in social class.

My mental assessment of him obviously showed, because poor Teddy crossed his arms and shifted his feet nervously. "Would you stop staring?"

I felt my cheeks heat up from embarrassment. "Sorry. You just look, well..."

"Like a nerd?" He finished for me. "Yeah, I know."

Now I felt guilty. "No. No, that's not what I meant." I tried to change the subject. "Anyways, what's your name? I'm Vincent."

He hesitated, then quietly mumbled something I couldn't make out.

"What?" I asked.

"Teddy."

I actually laughed. When he didn't laugh with me, I realized he wasn't making a joke.

The story was that his mother named him Teddy because at birth he had a ton of curly, copper colored hair and big, blue eyes. He reminded her of a teddy bear, and she thought it would be a wonderful idea to name him after one. While I'm certain Teddy was a cute name as a baby, it was a pretty embarrassing one as a preteen. Teddy had more freckles than visible skin, and what skin you could see was blindingly white. He was very tall for his age, so tall that his pants ended before they reached his ankles. As if that didn't look ridiculous enough on poor Teddy, he was so lanky that every article of clothing he wore looked a few sizes too big.  The final rotten cherry on this melted sundae was that Teddy wore thick glasses and had zero social skills.


In short, Teddy was a skinny and socially awkward ginger kid, and his peers didn't want him to forget about that fact. 


Teddy wasn't actually stupid as his nickname would suggest. Far from it. In fact, Teddy always had his nose in a book and always turned in his homework that later received perfect grades. While intelligence should be celebrated, as we all know, it simply isn't, especially if you don't look good. Teddy's smart mind only served to further alienate him from the rest of the school.

While I did end up befriending him, most of the reason I ever hung out with him was due to a combination of pity and to offer him some sort of protection from bullies. It's not that I didn't try to actually be friends with him for who he was, it's just that it was damn near impossible. He was too smart for me and I could never keep up with most of what he was talking about, and he wasn't interested most of the stuff I liked. He was nice, sure, but our conversations went nowhere fast and always resulted in awkward silences or him reading a book while I played my Game Boy or wrote notes to friends.

Eventually, he ended up moving away. I don't know what ever happened to him and I've been searching for him via Facebook for a few days now. I'm hoping I can't find him due to misspelling his last name. I've always wondered if he ever overcame his bullies and went on to have a good life, or if succumbed to it and is now six feet under. I really hope it isn't the latter.