All I learned on love and loss I gleaned from window lickers.

Call it blatant irony
or tongue-in-cheek cynicism
but I swear I learned more
from the "special needs"
"special education"
or whatever "special" noun
is currently politically correct
in describing the kids
picked after the preps
and before the nerdy honors kids
in gym class
than they learned
in all of their sad little
lousy public school system careers.
(That was a magnificently cruel sentence
but if I'm going to burn in Hell
it may as well be for offending more
than a few ex-girlfriends
and some over-sensitive latchers-on.)
But please, allow me to elaborate.
It's for the best, and you have no choice.

Admittedly, I was one of those
kids picked last for basketball
whether or not I was smart
or just a good test-taker.
One time while in the seventh grade
at Newburgh's splendid South Junior High School
I was sitting on the bleachers
in my shiny new Nikes
when an obese "special" boy
approached me and demanded
that I relinquish my kicks.
Naturally I refused, thus prompting
him to try to pull them off.
I grabbed hold of the bleachers
and kicked at the boy in front of me
as he tugged at my sneakers
with one hand and tried to slice my leg
with the lid of a Tic-Tac container
with the other.
I was so confused by his weapon of choice
that I was laughing as I fended him off.
Needless to say I didn't go home barefoot
since I had both the high-ground advantage
and a bit more together in the strategy department.
His shoes were just fine anyway, there
was no need for mine
but that episode taught me
the first lesson I learned from his kind:
If you want something you have to try to take it
no matter the odds against you
and that means using whatever
weapons you happen to have, even the absurd.

Then there was the cafeteria crowd.
My oh-so-cool classmates and I
shared our table with the special ed kids
since neither subculture was strong enough
to claim their own territory.
The area of brackish water where salt and fresh met
in the middle was always interesting.
Their self-declared leader, Jose
was the most outspoken of the bunch
and enjoyed bragging about his status
as chairman of that particular board.
He went so far as to try to convince
my friends and me that the special ed program
which was called PLC in our school district
actually stood for a less-than-kosher entity
that ended in "Licking Class". Here I'll remind you
of the hormones racing through fifteen-year-olds
if that'll help you figure out that elusive first P word.
Was that an elective that anyone could take?
And was it really a good thing to admit
that one needed further instruction in said activity?
Mind you, these are rebuttals that I make now safely
from the comfort of my bedroom ten years later
since my sneakers are no longer threatened.
At the time I just laughed it off and went on eating.
Jose had taught me lesson number three, though:
Tell yourself whatever you have to to make it through the day
and spread the good word, even if others aren't naive enough
to believe you; it'll make you feel better
and it just might fool some of those around you.

For lack of an exciting lie I am forced to confess
that the third and final incident with, you know, also
occurred in a cafeteria, this time at Newburgh's
fine-tuned Free Academy.
The tables were small round jobs at that school
so we finally had more seating options.
Two friends were sitting with me one afternoon
during my senior year when we noticed that a plump girl
in pink sweatpants from the special class had been staring
in our direction for quite some time.
After scoping us out for ten more minutes
she waddled over and handed me a photograph.
It was a picture of her, but not a portrait.
She was standing in a parking lot with a dog
or riding a train with a crazy aunt
or maybe it was some other random scenario
that my memory has deemed irrelevant.
I studied the photo, then raised my confused eyes
to see if I could determine her intentions
but she had already walked away.
My friends were pointing and laughing at me
over my new girlfriend, but I was silent
because I realized I had just learned
my fourth lesson:
I attract mentally unstable women.

Come on, throw me a bone.
You almost smiled.
A little.