Just Wait For Me

(If you’re going to understand what I then did, you have to realize who I was. When I graduated from college, I was just poor little Jenny, a five foot one inch tall wallflower, who looked like a maybe 12 year old girl. I then did what had to be the dumbest thing that you ever heard of. I had some money saved, so I signed up for a one week course at the Luxury Lady Spa. The ladies there put me though a crash course in walking, standing, make up, projection and voice. Enter poor little Jenny, exit little bitty pretty one.)
I exit the Luxury Lady Spa and enter a class at the Lozenge Corporation. The class is about operating something called an advanced signal processing unit. The text for the class was obviously written by some one from the Institute For The Mentally Lame. The instructor for the class was a graduate of some school in eastern Europe, where they didn’t require a knowledge of spoken English. By the end of the class, Jenny was the only one who could actually operate the signal processing unit. I did a demo for management and I was then assigned to work for one Jim Balt.
Chapter 2: Bad Jim
I was born in the area of the big city that they call the school for gladiators. If you wanted to survive, you needed to be big and strong. I was always a couple of inches shorter than the other guys. So I worked out hard, every day. As a result, I got to be inhumanly strong, for a guy my size.
When I was in first grade, some punk pushed me, for no reason. I hit the punk in the face and broke his nose. I got marched into the Principal’s office and she got in my face. I told her, “The other guy attacked me. I just defended myself.” I got told that there were other ways to deal with attacks. (possibly, but I never found the other ways.)
If the punks in first grade couldn’t mistreat me, why the punks in maybe second or third grade could get it done.
(There are points in the human body where a properly directed blow can cause death. Since I could read, I learned where the key points were. I used them, in self defense. I didn’t always kill my attacker, as I lacked the necessary strength. I did get the message across. The other boys began to talk of ‘Bad Jim.’)
Since I lacked the ability to ‘get along’ with the other boys, I mostly played by myself. Only I didn’t play. I worked the chinning bars. I worked the triceps push up bars. I worked the jungle gym. I even worked the elevated brachiation ladder. (They will tell you that humans can’t brachiate, they aren’t strong enough. They lie.)
By the time that I got out of sixth grade, I was sent to juvenile prison. My first day in juvie, I was attacked by one of the smaller punks. I hit punky boy with a straight blast left hand, to the solar plexus. Punky boy pretended to be dead. By the time that they released me from juvie at 18 years old, punky boy was still pretending to be dead.
I was then placed in solitary confinement. It was heaven. I had my own room, my own computer and private access to the workout equipment. I began to take classes at my rate, not the school rate. In three and a half years, I had graduated from high school. In two and a half more years I had a college degree. (The juvie people needed a hero and I still can’t understand German, but that’s not what my school records say.)
I then got a job with the Lozenge Corporation. I was allowed to study just mathematics and computer programming. I supposedly have a PhD in mathematics. “Las’ week I cudn’t spell ejjicated,, now I are!”
I didn’t really fit in, at the Lozenge Corporation. I could do things and even explain how I did things. However, how I did things was not exactly the way that the book said to do things. My way worked, the book way often didn’t work. Work or not the book way was the Lozenge Corporation way.