FACT: P.E. is still around.
FACT: P.E. is required for everyone except those in Marching Band.
FACT: I thought that by the time I was a senior P.E. would no longer be required.
FACT: I was wrong.
Our routine goes like this: Dressing out. TAKES 10 MINUTES. Roll call. TAKES 15 MINUTES. Explanation of the game. TAKES 15 MINUTES. Game. TAKES 5 MINUTES. Dressing back into our original clothing. TAKES 10 MINUTES. I get more of a work-out stepping in and out of my shorts than I do in "Mat Ball." (I'm not even going to bother explaining that one. There's a mat and a ball and really that's all you need to know to get the gist of the game.)
There is a difference between being able to talk about P.E. for days (which I could absolutely do) and being able to BE in P.E. for days (which is turning me into Jack Torrence). P.E. is one thing movies seem to get right. It's the most UNphysically demanding class, it's incredibly sexist, and it's a complete waste of my time. The worst part is, it's required for EVERYONE. (Except Marching Band. Apparently tuba players have a more intense work-out than football players. Didn't you know? Tubas get you jacked. That's why our tuba player weighs about 400 pounds, so of course he definitely does NOT need to be playing Crab Soccer. That's 400 pounds of MUSCLE, man. Crab Soccer is for stupid SOCCER players, man. THEY need an hour work-out before they have their TWO hour work-out AFTER school. MAN.) So since it's required for everyone BESIDES Mr. Tuba, I have to deal with many unique characters that honestly I could go without having to deal with.
"We havin' sex tonight, baby?"
"Shut up, BITCH."
He grabs my throat and squeezes it tightly. No, I'm not joking. I was strangled in P.E. class.
"HAVE. SEX. WITH. ME. AT. SEVEN."
"Sorry baby, I'm just bipolar today."
"Don't make me kick your ass."
I probably wouldn't have said this to the boy who just strangled me had he not been a 4 foot tall freshmen.
"What was that BITCH?"
"Are you a freshmen?"
"Yeah baby, I'm a freshmen. Give me some love."
"What middle school are you from?"
"I came from an alternative school. But they kicked me out."
Alternative school. Bad... Getting kicked OUT of your alternative. school. Worse...
...and maybe I shouldn't have told him I was going to kick his ass...
"I love you, baby."
...and why do I attract criminals and perverts only...
"Don't you love me?"
...maybe I should do something about that...
"SAY YOU LOVE ME, BITCH."
"Okay, baby. I can wait for your lovin.'
So along with dealing with these unique strangers/criminals/munchkins, I have to succumb to the "girl version" in every game we play.
"OKAY LISTEN UP! WE'RE GONNA PLAY CATCH! BOYS, YOU ARE RUNNING AND CATCHING THE FOOTBALL IN MID-AIR! GIRLS, YOU ARE STANDING ONE AND A HALF FEET APART AND TOSSING THE NERF BALL TO ONE ANOTHER LIKE YOU WOULD TOSS AN EGG. GOT IT?!"
It really doesn't get any more humiliating than that.
"OKAY, NATASHA, TRY NOT TO DROP THE NERF BALL."
Annnnd...maybe it does.
At least I don't have to worry about getting hit in the crotch. I've seen more crotch-shots in P.E. than I have in my entire life. Guys seem to think it's funny to watch other guys fall to the floor in agony. I find it sad, and, once again, a waste of my time. I see it enough in Will Ferrell movies.
FACT: I look short and fat in my P.E. uniform.
FACT: Everyone looks short and fat in their P.E. uniform.
FACT: I thought that people would be too busy complaining about P.E. to notice that I haven't shaved my legs in weeks.
FACT: I was wrong.