Some time around 1999, or whenever I was in 5th grade, I had placed my Furby in my school backpack over the weekend. Most likely while being shuttled back and forth from my dad’s house for “his weekend.” I forgot about it and walked to school the following monday. As class started and everyone became quiet I could hear the little shit stirring inside my bag, and so could everyone else. I couldn’t believe I had forgotten about it and prayed to god that it would please just silence itself. After a quick investigation it was obvious that the noise was coming from my backpack and I was ordered to turn whatever it was off. But here’s the “fun” thing about Furbies… you can’t turn the little fuckers off. There is no “off” switch and I had to explain that to my teacher while my faced burned red and my stomach knotted itself inside-out. I had to walk up to the front of the class and hand it to him in front of everyone so he could inspect it. He found the battery compartment and sent another student to the front office for a small screwdriver so he open it up and remove the batteries. Thus began the longest 10 minutes of my life. He continued with class and at regular intervals the Furby would chime in with comments like “BORING!” and “I’M A FURBY” or whatever those stupid pieces of shit said. I would have given anything to be able to burst into flames. I was the kid who brought a furby to class. I was already pretty unpopular but this just took the cake. Soon after it was shut off, but the damage was done.
This is an event that I continue to dwell on 14+ years later.
so remember, Furbies may seem like a lot of fun but they’ll actually just slowly erode what little self esteem you have left away until you’re an adult who can’t sleep at night because of stupid shit you did in 5th grade.
