Smear the Queer

 
Smear the Queer was a popular game in middle school. It was simply played with a mob and a ball. Someone threw the ball in the air. If it landed in front of you, you had to pick it up and throw it. When you had the ball in your hands, you were the queer and the mob's job was to smear you.

I hated the game.

One wintry recess, everyone was playing. I had and have horrible hand-eye coordination. The ball landed in front of me. I picked it up and threw it hard. It landed directly in front of me again. As I bent down to pick it up, a sharp, hard kick connected with my tailbone. I fell to the ground reeling in pain, crying.

I ended up in the nurse's office waiting for my parents, hunched over and unable to sit. They picked me up and took me to the doctor. The doctor's diagnosis was a fractured tailbone.

I never played Smear the Queer again. I didn't need to. That damn brown doughnut cushion I had to carry with me everywhere I went was a very visible reminder that I was the queer.

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