Tagged: teacher

Go Ahead

  • who supplies noodles
    k-avatar
  • flung backwards upon the bed
  • sometimes I say the stupid things I think
  • forced to rehire an elementary school teacher
  • in the half-remodeled kitchen

Go ahead. Ask me how my day was.

You’ve never had a day like this, not unless you were forced to rehire an elementary school teacher who supplies noodles to a ring of car thieves, not unless you had to explain to the parents of that teacher’s whole class why you fired him in the first place and then announce his continued access to their children without pausing for breath. Not unless you went on to imply that those particular students had probably stolen more than a few cars themselves, so what was the harm. Not unless you then got fired, and not rehired.

Getting up this morning was a mistake. Once I was up, I should have caved in to my urges and let myself be flung backwards upon the bed in the half-remodeled kitchen. Oh, you bet your ass there’s a story behind that, but it’s too long and I’m too short of bourbon.

Sometimes I say the stupid things I think, and today I said them to the wrong people.

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Professor McMurphy

  • k-avatarsuch isolating topography
  • blanched, blotched, and faded
  • a beautiful double-cube room
  • some gigantic log spinning
  • slid into the huge four poster bed
  • why in all the hells

Professor McMurphy liked to follow a carefully planned curriculum, spending the early part of the semester on simple quadratics and such, isolating topography from less demanding material. But his students showed little appreciation, showering the professor with old cabbages that were blanched, blotched, and faded. He taught Abstruse Mathematics, lecturing in a beautiful double-cube room (216 square meters, 125 seats) in a prime location (room 97). Overhead, a mobile made of aluminum numerals slowly pivoted, like some enormous exponent or some gigantic log spinning in the air. But the students didn’t care.

Kelsie was by far the worst, but Professor McMurphy couldn’t flunk her. She knew too much. Where he was ticklish, mainly. That night, as she slid into the huge four poster bed beside him, he wondered why in all the hells she didn’t share his passion for math. Then he turned his mind to other things (computing the billionth digit of Pi) and turned his body to Kelsie.

 

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I Knew I’d Find Him Here

  1. k-avatarCharacter – burned-out kindergarten teacher
  2. Setting – botanical garden
  3. Object – sunflower seeds
  4. Situation – 21st birthday

I knew I’d find him here. Mr. Rodkis, good old Mr Rodkis. He could never cut it with kids any older than 5 or 6, on account of that name.

“Sit down! Be quiet!” He’s bawling out the sunflowers now, although those chrysanthemums are only waiting for him to turn his back.

“That’s it, young lady,” addressed to an 8-foot plant. “You’re in time-out!”

I pincer out some more seeds from the pouch I bought at the gift shop. “Hey, Rodkis,” I want to call out, “I found your troublemaker’s baby sister.”

These tall blossoms are the Botanical Garden’s primary claim to fame. Sadly banal, as a claim to fame. Like Rodkis. I guess that’s why he always winds up here.

I thought it would feel triumphant to track him down on my 21st birthday, to look down on the cranky little man who’d looked down on me those 15 years ago.

But, in hindsight, I agree with my friends. This is a depressing place to spend my birthday.

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“No Pushing!”

  1. k-avatarCharacter – burned-out kindergarten teacher
  2. Setting – DMV
  3. Object – pile of sawdust
  4. Situation – lost a piece of jewelry

“No pushing! Remember our manners, children.”

The weary throng queueing for license and registration issues tried to ignore Cyril, just as they tried to ignore the shrill whine of saws and the incessant pounding of hammers. Tried and failed.

“This field trip will be over soon,” Cyril shouted. “Now, nobody is to leave this room until I say. There’s a little job I need to do over here, and I want everyone to just be still and use your inside voices.”

Cyril knelt next to the plastic sheeting marking the construction zone, frantically sifting through a pile of sawdust in search of the candy bracelet he didn’t remember eating during the first hour he’d stood in line.

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