|
Side Note: The Bugeler's Fate before/after In a related side note, the Bugeler of Camp Rotary met his commuppance in my Senior year in high-school. The Bugeler went to my high-school, see, and he was not well liked at all. In fact, nobody really liked him. He carried himself with an undeserved arrogance, was cruel and picked on the few that were weaker than he, was petulant in general, and had a heavyset girlfriend, that he was perpetually verbally abusive to, especially in front of other people to support his pathetic self-esteem. My buddy, Jason, whom I had not met yet at that point, was by contrast very well liked. He was a star football player, (when not in trouble), and many people in the school called him friend. The Bugeler had a problem with Jason, for some reason. And while Jason could throw taunts out, and jibed nearly everyone, the Bugeler took it to heart. One day, the Buegler decided he'd had enough, apparently, and made the fatal flaw of deciding to take his angst out on Jason. Jason had made a off-hand comment, and the Bugeler snapped. "I'm going to beat your ass," he'd said, "After school, at Bush (local middle school), be there." (Jason would later tell me he laughed, and said, "Okay," much like one would say "Okay" if a waitress prompted one towards desert.) What followed was a classic, all-american, schoolyard fight. I showed up, and the school was ringed with cars, thronged with kids. There was an electricity in the air. There were easily fifty kids there, and more gathering all the time. Jason moved about the crowd, talking loudly, and laughing with the particular high-pitched sadistic laugh that is something of his trademark. His eyes were a bit wild. He'd just finished football practice. (Later on, he would tell me that he wondered how he would do, as he had just finished lifting weights as well. The Bugeler never lifted weights in his life) Everyone milled about. Waiting. Eventually, in the distance, someone spotted the Bugeler. "There he is!!! I can't believe it!!!" someone called. The bugeler approached. A throng of three or four kids were with him. Jason's shoulders tensed. He strode with big steps, and with a snarl on his face. His anger was palpable. The kids with the Bugeler fled. Jason charged at the Bugeler, and the Bugeler struck first, a hard shot to the jaw, as the crowd coalesced around the combatants. Jason stopped for a split second, and his eyes darkened to a coal black rage. Then, he actually picked the Bugeler up over his shoulders, and threw him to the ground. Stunned, the Bugeler gasped for air. Jason sat on him, his knees on his shoulders, and started hitting him methodically. The heavy sound of meat hitting meat resounded. The fury of the crowd was unbelievable. I stopped and stepped back from the tableaux. Faces were red with anger, strained from shouting, screaming at the Bugeler. The roar increased with every blow. The scene reminded me of a troupe of monkies gone horribly disturbed, invading another troupes space perhaps, or a brutal challenge for dominance inside the pack. Intense screaming, stomping. Fists clenched in rage. Shaking. The bugeler managed to roll on his stomach, as Jason continued his beating. I felt no remorse. The Bugeler paid his money, took his chances, and now his ass was funding the check his ego had drawn. It was no one's fault but his, as Jason was, really, quite an easy person to deal with, and never meant anything but humor by what he said. In the end, perhaps it was jealousy for what Jason had, and the Bugeler did not, that was his undoing. Rolling on his stomach did him little good. Jason grabbed him by the hair, and continued hitting him. He paused and laughed. "Had enough?" he asked. "Fuck you!" the bugeler replied inbetween gasps. What a glutton. Jason hit him a few more times, and then the Bugeler rolled to his back. Mistake. Jason rained blows down on his face, and at one point, started growling and grinding his fist into the Bugelers' eye. The crowd was in a frenzy. A car pulled up sharply, and the unmistakeable quick blurb of a wail of a police siren echoed out through the playground. The crowd fled in a panic. Cars flashed everywhere, packed to the brim. People ran blindly. It was utter chaos. I looked, and I saw Jason hunched over in a friend's car. He made it safe. I backed out of the lot, almost getting hit by another fleeing fight watcher, and made it safe. As I pulled out, I saw the Bugeler slink off in ignominy. The Bugeler met his fate, and the day was not his. I don't know what happened to him much after that. Can't say that I care to find out.
|
