A good looking girl calls me "kid." Not to my face or anything, but "What's that kid's name?" Wow that hurts more than I ever thought it would. I remember very distinctly when I was first called a "guy." It made me feel like a real person. It was 8th grade walking home from the bus stop with people that walked my way. Talking to people who were not really people but blocks of clay, waiting for fate to mold them into whatever cruel shape the gods decide. But walking those three blocks, in the time when I was just beginning to realize how much the world hated me, a redhead girl named Misty, told me "you're such a guy." I remember filling with pride that somebody noticed me, but trying not to show it. I still have a special longing for redheads, maybe from that experience, maybe from my desire for something different.