{"id":107,"date":"2026-04-28T01:46:16","date_gmt":"2026-04-28T01:46:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/boydownfall.wordpress.com\/?page_id=107"},"modified":"2026-05-08T17:17:54","modified_gmt":"2026-05-08T17:17:54","slug":"dog-in-disguise-memoir-de-bark","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/dog-in-disguise-memoir-de-bark\/","title":{"rendered":"Dog In Disguise: Memoir de Bark by Bark Smith"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Chapter: Renys Parking Lot <\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need some stuff from Renys ,\u201d her mom announced while they were eating breakfast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d Amanda hated shopping, but she loved the way those makeshift boxers felt last week, and she wanted to know that feeling again. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the two gathered dishes and spoons, they started the outside part of their Saturday morning. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

<walking into Renys><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s annoying they have to have a girl side and a boy side, so awkward; a strange but valid thought for a 16 year old brain to be having. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI need some underwear, and I want to try a different style,\u201d she got the words out, but without a nervous scratch? Hardly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat sort of style?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cJust something different.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d She heard the neutral word her mom chose, but she also heard the skepticism decades before \u2018kay.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Amanda looked toward the men\u2019s side of the store. She had asked Cindy, her adult best friend who assured her women were allowed to wear dude undies too, what size she should try. Cindy suggested mens large, and so with a deep breath of confidence, Amanda headed to the left. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe girl section is over there.\u201d Her mom always spoke just loud enough to gather the attention of stranger adults who supported her mom with their silence and stares. They understood what Amanda understood: that \u201cthe girl section is over there\u201d was code for \u201cwhy are you such a freak.\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know,\u201d Amanda knew her mom was confused, \u201cI told you I needed a new size and I wanted to try something new.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the cogs flipped around in her mom\u2019s brain, the awareness hit when she suddenly realized she was standing in front of the men\u2019s boxer display with her daughter: \u201cI\u2019m going to wait outside.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d Was all Amanda could say, feeling somewhat grateful her mom went away, while also feeling nervous about the potential second awkward reaction some cashiers force when a customer buys things outside of the \u201cnormal\u201d box. Remember, it was the 90\u2019s; \u201cnormal\u201d did not include a 16 year old teen girl buying men\u2019s underwear. Times were shifting, but that was a lot for a 16 year old to face alone. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As Amanda walked out of the store with the new clothing that she was ecstatic to try, she silently thanked god that the store clerk just smiled. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShe\u2019ll be angry but whatever she already hates me,\u201d were the out-loud words Amanda said knowing only her ears would hear as she walked as slowly as passible to the car. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

She opened the car door and got in, mom wasted no time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI threw up in the parking lot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh, ehh, I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou should be.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n\n\n\n

____<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chapter: Tummy Toe Blues <\/h2>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey! Amanda! Come here! We want to ask you something!\u201d The two girls that were yelling at me were not the kindest of the bunch, but they weren\u2019t always mean either.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe?\u201d I said with my face: the loudness of the underground pool swamped the room so intensely that my shy voice could not be heard by anyone more then 2 feet away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The local YMCA hosted swim-team meets when we had home meets; I hated swim-team meets. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We would practice in that pool as well; I hated that pool. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A relevant note: part of what made swim-team horrifying, was the bathing suit they had to special order me, because my body would not fit any of the pre ordered sizes; I hated bathing suits. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYea yea, Come here!\u201d one of them gestured and waved me over. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As I stood, I wrapped my towel around my body, doing my best to cover the horrible team suit that made my body feel and look even worse. As I walked over I wondered what they wanted. They were smiling and looked happy, but I was learning that their happy faces were often because they thought I was funny, not because there were excited to play and involve me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

But, like any 11 year old, I was desperate to fit in and to be treated as the other girls were treated. I suppose this was a foreshadow on a few themes that came up later in life, but for a kid who just wanted friends, I always took the risk when they offered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPut down your towel,\u201d they already wanted me to abandon my security towel. I knew, and they knew, \u201cstand up against this wall, keep your back to the wall, look down, and tell us if you can see your toes\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh, Right. I thought in my head, they didn\u2019t want to have fun<\/strong> with me, they wanted to make<\/strong> fun<\/strong> of me. I said \u201cno\u201d and started to walk away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, no!! Look we will do it too!\u201d They both stood against the wall and told me how they could see their toes. \u201cNow you, you do it!\u201d History and their smiles told me that if I didn\u2019t comply, the punishment would be worse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I stood against the wall, I looked down; perhaps with my neck bent forward slightly, \u201cI can see my toes,\u201d I muttered hoping this would satisfy their needs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo no. you cheated, you can\u2019t move your back off the wall, like this,\u201d one of them said as she girl-splained me on how to lean against a wall using my back. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sighed and tried again, they would not relent until I did this pointless amusement they craved. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI can see my toes.\u201d As I write this memory 35 years later, I do not fully remember if I could see my toes or not, but I wasn\u2019t going to give them what they wanted, and even as a shy kid who felt worthless and sad all the time, now, looking back, my defiance then, became my strength later. It fuels me. It wasn\u2019t until I started writing this scene, that I realized the importance of my tiny defiance. It didn\u2019t matter if I could or couldn\u2019t see my toes, their agenda was set. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNO YOU CANT!!\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYOU CANT SEE YOUR TOES; YOUR STOMACH IS TOO FAT! LIAR. YOU’RE A FAT LIAR!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They laughed, grinned, and gleamed as they declared my worthlessness and sent me and my towel-shield on my way, offering one last \u201cAMANDA PANDA FATSO! HAHAHA!\u201d Just loud enough for my ears to hear, yet oddly never loud enough that one of the 59million swim-team adults or coaches would ever hear. Also, it took me years to stop discriminately hating pandas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Chapter: Renys Parking Lot \u201cI need some stuff from Renys ,\u201d her mom announced while they were eating breakfast. \u201cOkay.\u201d Amanda hated shopping, but she loved the way those makeshift boxers felt last week, and she wanted to know that feeling again.  After the two gathered dishes and spoons, they started the outside part of […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-107","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/107","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=107"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/107\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":157,"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/107\/revisions\/157"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/barksmith.me\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=107"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}