Throughout the years, as I heard it time and time again from teachers, other kids’ parents, and even my parents, I never bothered to find its real meaning, for I just assumed it was a nice way to say “imbecile” or “fuckup.” Imagine my complete surprise when I stumbled upon its actual meaning: astute, keen, sharp, calculating, conniving. It was like a weight had been lifted! All these years I had been being paid a compliment and didn’t even realize it!
Mind you, I guess I wasn’t very shrewd to figure this out years earlier, but looking back, I can totally see what these people saw in me. After all, I was almost always the mastermind behind every evil plot to prematurely gray my parents (or my friends’ parents). The fact that we got caught (some of the time) was almost never due to me, but it was usually due to the less shrewd parties involved.
Case in point, my friend Pam and I (dumpster divas) were always finding discarded porn magazines in the parking lot next to her house (everything I learned about sex, I learned from those mags – and cable). I thought the photo spreads (literally) were hysterical and that we should share them with the neighborhood. My plot entailed us taping them (eye-level) to everybody’s front storm door, ringing their doorbell, and then running away. Genius plan, right? Well, it would have been had my short, stubby friend been able to keep up the pace. She blew our cover by the second house. Again, I was sent home, by her overreacting mother all the while she was screaming that I was shrewd, obnoxious and a bad influence on her daughter.
Another time, in fifth grade, I rallied the class to make obscene baked goods for the class bake sale (those damn porn mags made me do it). Everyone showed up with cupcakes that had nipples, éclairs that resembled penises, and cookies with butt cracks. Never mind that we all (some with my help) also named our creations lascivious names like; tasty titties, penis pastry, cock cakes, and full-moon moon pies (hey – I was creative even back then – thank you very much). We were the first class to almost sell-out before the word spread and we were shut down (by jealous plain-cookie sales kids). As it was determined, I was fingered as the conspirator and trotted down to the principal’s office. I could only hear his end of the phone conversation with my mother as he told her that I was very shrewd and needed to be better supervised. WTF? Didn’t he know that you become quite worldly at a young age when you have a liquor store (that was the front for an adult book store) at the corner of your street and a strip joint the next street over (every kid's dream playground).
I was also very shrewd at the roller rink when I had a major crush on the hottie roller referee dude. I was only fifteen, but my hormones were raging out of control (not much has changed) and I had my sights set on him. The fact that he was a few years older than me and my parents would strongly disapprove, made me want him even more. The rink was crawling with scantily clad pretty young things all trying to vie for his attention so I hatched a diabolical plan to make myself stand out: I would fall – hard. Yes, I was willing to risk serious injury and/or dismemberment for a shot at this player (what the hell was I thinking). So, I got up a good speed skate, waited until he was within perfect jump-to-my-aid distance and hurled myself into the path of a gang of linebackers (actually, they were just really big girls – but each one certainly outweighed me by double). Long story short, four of the girls fell on top of me. Hard. I took a roller skate to the eye (harder) and ripped my brand-new Jordache jeans (hardest). I also found out that I can go without breathing for almost three minutes before passing out (which is how long it took Roller McDreamy to hoist all of the glamazons off of me). Needless to say, by the time he got to me, my eye had swelled up to about the size of a tennis ball, so I didn’t look like my cute, adorable self (but rather freakishly heinous since a tennis-balled eye slathered in mascara and blue eye shadow is so NOT attractive). Nevertheless, I faked a gimpy leg so that he would carry-skate me back to the “first-aid” room. He tended to my injuries, let me cry on his shoulder and despite my battle-wound, he still made my night (and a few nights after that).
Although I still consider myself to be very shrewd (and proud of it), I prefer not to use it (as much) for selfish gain, but rather for the good of mankind. After all, it is an excellent skill to have and to hone. Just like great wisdom comes with age, shrewdness comes with experience…and that’s something I have a lot of…
