Hey Pilgrim Boy!

Okay, so there was one time, back when I was probably in First or Second grade when I, along with the rest of the class, was asked to dress like a Pilgrim at school.

So, me, never being one for details, quickly tuned out and went about planning my Pilgrim get-up.

I went home that evening and told my mom I needed to be a Pilgrim the next day and that she needed to make me a costume...you know, like right now.

So, we quickly assembled a hodge-podge of items laying about the house.

My black shirt, pants and cape (never mind it was lined with red taffeta) from the Dracula Halloween costume were employed as the outfit's base.

A white over-the-shoulders thingy was fashioned from something or another and draped over my shoulders.

Being the early 80's, in the haze of Urban Cowboy madness, we added my cowboy boots to the mix.

Now for a hat...hmm...construction paper and a Quaker Oats box will do the trick...

A hatchet and shoe buckles were made from construction paper.

We were done!

I had it!

I barely slept that night, excited about having the coolest Pilgrim costume ever to wear to school the next day.

Bright and early next morning, I donned the masterpiece of creation.

I walked to my bus stop, and nobody else was dressed up!

Lame man, really lame. You guys have NO SPIRIT!

I rode the bus, and again...I was the only one Pilgrimed Up!

Cruising down the hall and to my class...FUCKING BULL TITS! AM I THE ONLY PILGRIM HERE???

I then begin to endure a verbal assault so piercing I still to this day cannot talk about it without a drink in my hand. (I keep whiskey in my desk drawer...I'm coping as I'm writing)

HEY PILGRIM BOY!

You get it..HARSH for Second graders...

I make the way to my class, dodging the volleys being launched in my direction.

It's then that it happens.

My teacher, the pig faced bitch, asks me why I'm dressed as a Pilgrim.

Because you told us to.

Yes, I did tell you all to.

Tomorrow.

Today's Tuesday.

The blood flushed from my face like never before.

Chills.

Sweat.

I think my intestines gurgled...

Quickly, I ran to my cubbie hole to find my gym clothes.

Gone.

At home, in the laundry.

In the time before political correctness and over sensitivity, what was I forced to do all day?

You got it...sit in my buckles, hat and cape.

Fucking Pilgrims.