We had a kid in our class named Robbie Johnston. In hindsight, he was clearly an ADHD kid, but back then we just called him bad. He was occasionally amusing but constantly annoying.
The teachers disciplined him mercilessly but they probably got tired from time to time and let him just run amok. On Track & Field Day he was sprinting all around, annoying everybody.
As Susan came down on both feet, Robbie ran by, yelled "Woo," and slapped her on the buttocks, knocking her to her knees. Thus eliciting a second round of g-g-g-golly, mmm mmm wow, ooo la la and a smattering of ai chihuahuas.
Being the consummate gentleman, I withheld comment and hurried to Susan's side to help her up. Alas, she scrambled to her feet and lit out after Robbie, screaming "Robbie!" before I could get there.
For a minute, Robbie was a god. With his wreckless gall and absence of boundaries, he had not only reacted to Susan's allure but had incited her highly motivated interest and he had touched her.
The speech class and I hurried after Susan who hurried after Robbie and in a melee that ensued I tackled Robbie to ask the burning question:
What was it like?
What? he asked.
Touching her there, like that? I asked.
Who? he asked.
He had already forgotten.
Occasionally amusing. Constantly annoying.