rexphantom

So, yeah. What'd I miss?

Nick was the first friend I ever had. He was the same age as me and lived down the street, and I remember it being a pretty big deal when his folks brought him over to my house and introduced us. It was the first and only time I'd ever been on anything resembling a "play date," but I guess it went pretty well. He was my best friend for a good two years, and you know how long two years is when you're five. Long time, dude.

One day during recess, and this was in the first grade, I ran up to Nick on the playground and announced that I was Cat Man. Cat Man was a superhero-He Man concoction of a character I had made up, and I was looking forward to putting him to use on the playground that day. Nick was starting up the ladder of the slide. He kept going and a kid named Bobby Ing-something (I distinctly remember the Ing, but not the rest of his name) turned to me and said, "He's not playing with YOU."

So that was it. I turned and immediately walked away, and Nick and I never played together at recess again. We still sat together on the bus, went to each other's houses on the weekends, and things of that sort, but at recess we just . . . I wouldn't say ignored each other, but we stayed away from each other.

I never cried or felt particularly bad about it, but I remember just wanting to get the hell away from Bobby Ing-something as fast as I could. I wanted to run away from that rejection and never think about it again. And though Bobby and I never spoke a single word to each other again, until junior high or so I thought of him as my Worst Enemy. Whenever I imagined myself as Spider-Man, Bobby was Dr. Octopus. He was the mad scientist I would foil when I was an adventuring super-spy. He was the captain of the opposing kickball team that I would come back from almost certain defeat to triumph over when I was kicking a soccer ball against my chimney in the side yard.

I think Bobby moved away around sixth grade or so. I never saw him again and I've never heard about what he's done since. I have no idea what kind of person he turned out to be, but I bet if I saw him today and recognized him as the friend-stealer I knew him to be, I'd still give him an easily disguised dirty look. I got my revenge in our childhood, though. Bobby had to get glasses in the second grade . . . he may have gotten Nick during recess, but at least could still see the world clearly.

After Nick I fell in with John Loyd and His Gang.