Wednesday, January 28, 2009

cover blown

As a relatively young and new teacher at my school, I have worked overtime to project a serious, stern demeanor in front of the little teenage heathens. Only a little over a decade separates us, and trust me, this is not enough of a gap to command automatic respect. My diligence has been rewarded with the certain knowledge that no one will ever say that I'm the cool teacher and with the fact that my classroom is so quiet you can hear you know what drop at any given moment.
So, imagine my horror this morning when a foreign exchange who I've never seen before walked into my very silent study hall full of sophomores and asked, "Ms. eLLe...you at the Wynn last Saturday?" Um, yes? "Yeah yeah, we see you. We all see you and want to say hi, but you with some guy."
Damn.
The way he said guy and the way he laughed as he left the room was either very foreign or very perverted. I simultaneously gave the death glare to the 30 pairs of eye looking over my way and did a quick replay in my mind of that night. Was there one moment, even one half of one moment, that the students could have feasibly seen me that was an appropriate moment to be seen?
No, no there wasn't. In fact the night was nothing more than a long string of wholly inappropriate moments on all accounts.

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