The Alabaster Sock

We Will Fight the Threat with Fighting

The Funniest Thing to Ever Happen to Me

Posted by Matt on May 28, 2011

I was once framed for a crime.

Let us go back in time…metaphorically. That technology has not been invented yet, silly. The epoch is high school, first or second year (I can’t remember which one it was exactly, but it’s in that general area). First half of high school wasn’t much fun for me; now, I know that’s the norm, but it was difficult for me for a few specific reasons. The main being that I was separated from my best friend of however many years, him being sent to one of the other high schools. Which isn’t to say I was in completely unknown territory; I knew many of the people there, and a few I would even consider close associates. Even so, having to go to school every day without being able to hang out with your regular crew is rough. Throw in the other smarmy assholes you’ll probably find, and it only gets worse. I got better, though.

That really doesn’t have much of a obvious link to the actual story. Maybe it does for the more conspiracy-minded among us, but I find little reason to put that much thought into the events that will be described below. But it’s there for additional context, which can never be a bad thing, right?

Now, for the actual plot. It was a regular school day. I can tell it was a regular school day because I can’t remember anything else of note happening. I’m pretty sure it was during the lunch break. At that point, I was eating my bag lunch on th bench outside the library, where I could quickly finish and then grab one of the rapidly vanishing library computer spots so I could read X-Entertainment or whatever it was I did on the Internet back then. I got called on the intercom to the principal’s office, which was not that far away from the library. Of course, I had no idea why. Was I scared? Confused? Angry at my Internet session being interrupted? Can’t say.

So I get there, and my dad is sitting there. Now, the principal of my high school was a good guy. He even worked at the same university newspaper I’ve spent the last five years bankrupting. Anyway, now I was really confused. So I sat, and we talked. What was going on?

Here’s what was going on: the principal asked me if I had been drawing things on the cafeteria tables. Specifically, if I had been drawing dicks on the cafeteria tables. I barely ever went into the cafeteria, and I certainly had no desire to draw dicks on tables. So I politely said no, and that was that. I feel bad for my dad having to waste his time coming down to the school for this, but it happens.

Now, what would give them the idea that I was drawing dicks on the tables? Apparently, my name was scribbled near the offending ink phalluses. That, even more than the fact that I was accused of drawing dicks by itself, is the funniest part of the story. Someone tried to frame me for this. Someone not only tried to frame me, but also tried to frame me in the most moronic fashion possible.

Who would try to get me in trouble? I don’t know, but it was obviously someone who wasn’t too bright. I really hope they didn’t go on to commit further crimes using the same sly methods. I can’t imagine it would go over too well for them if they signed “Hi, John McMichael Did This!” in blood at a murder scene.

That’s it. That’s the story.


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