Humorous Insults

“You know what, fuck you!”
…was what I blurted to my teacher while he was driving us home from a party. Under normal circumstances, this would elicit extreme punishment upon me. But in truth, my outburst was more humorous than insulting. But this memory, for me, holds more meaning to me than just a funny accident. It reveals something about my character, about who I’ve become over these years. This memory verifies that I have finally achieved an acceptable level of self-confidence.
Looking back, I realize I’ve always been a quiet kid. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always just stood in the corner listening to everyone’s conversations trying to think of something to add. But it wasn’t until I arrived at college that I started to finally break out of that shell. And my new percussion professor was the one to stimulate the change.
Out of the three professors available to us, I was assigned the weird one. He has an incredible array of quirks and mannerisms such as gliding when he walks, rubbing the tops of his fingers against his palms, waving his hands and arms in odd ways when he talks, and spontaneously dropping to a whisper in mid conversation. Everybody in the studio makes fun of him for these traits, not because they’re bad, but because they’re so extreme. But since I saw him every week for lessons, I started to adopt and use his mannerisms for myself.
As a result, I became the subject of many jokes and mockeries. I was acting out these quirks for myself. But despite the crap I got from everyone around me, I was talking and socializing more. I felt good about myself for once even if it was through emulation. So when the other professor made fun of me, I immediately defended myself as I would my other friends, but inside I was actually quite pleased because all this meant that I had finally defined myself.
The memory of my outburst itself is quite hazy and every time it is retold, I add some humor. Most memories transform in this same way. What was once terrible soon becomes humorous. And even if my actions were an emulation of someone else, my friends will always regard that story as a ‘Ben’ story.

-Ben Wallace