It Starts... Again.

i thought i'd get through at least one day of work without having stories to tell... then i walked back in that building.

if you've been enjoying my ramblings about summer vacation, then i must apologize. this is the last week of august and it's time for me to get back to the dry-erase board. i don't have any kids yet (which is why i thought i wouldn't have any stories) but i did get to spend a marvelous day in pd *translation: professional development, ie "six hour of my life i'm never getting back"* with all the teachers in the whole district.

just to give you a little background: teachers hate pd. especially the week before school. we all sit there thinking of all the billions of things we need to get done while whatever presenter drones on and on about things we already know. thankfully, as is always the case when you shut hundreds of human beings in a room and leave them there all day, a source of entertainment presented itself before long.

on monday, entertainment presented itself in the form of one of the middle school teachers. it's not unusual for teachers to bring a little something to help them get through the day -- a book, a notepad to doodle on, some knitting. (i didn't make up the knitting part. i told my colleague aaron that i aspire to live long enough that someday i'll be so old i can bring knitting with me when i go to meetings. i just said that to make him laugh -- i'd much rather die than knit in public.) well, this middle school guy took it to the next level.

did i mention that we all hate these meetings? we do. but this guy swaggered in (late), took an aisle seat alone about five rows in front of aaron and me, and proceded to put on quite a show. first, he took his sandals off. then he slouched down in his seat and propped his bare feet up on the arm of the chair in front of him so they hung out into the aisle. next he pulled out a book -- "a salty piece of land" by intellectual giant jimmy buffet. then he popped in his ear buds and flipped on his ipod. then, oblivious to all the disapproving glares, he pulled out his cell phone and started a text message conversation with some friend of his, apparently another diligent member of the workforce.

we've just had three months of paid vacation. we get two weeks for the winter holidays and at least one day off every month. so... i think this guy's a jackass and if i was his boss i'd tan his arrogant hide. but i'm not his boss, so i don't care.

however, the two crabby old ladies behind me cared. they cared a lot and erupted into shocked and indignent whispers.

"oh, sue! look at the guy! he's got his stinky bare feet all over that chair. who IS that? do you know who that is?!"

"no, i don't. i've never seen him before. is he a TEACHER?!"

"i don't know. who IS that?!?"

"look! he's got his cell phone out too! why i never!!"

"who IS that? ask jim if he knows who that is."

"jim doesn't know either. he must be from the middle school."

"well, honestly. look at his feet all over that chair! tell jim to go talk to him! that's disgusting."

"jim! tell him he has to clean his sweaty bare feet off that chair with a moist toilette or something." (i'm not making this up! she really said "moist toilette".)

at this point, jim, who is one of the high school administrators, walks down the aisle and stands about four steps behind the guy. then he turns around and comes back with a shrug.

jim: "i don't even KNOW that guy!"

"o honestly, if that was one of the kids, you'd read him the riot act."

now another lady who's a big gun at the high school goes down the aisle and actually does whisper something inaudible to the exemplar of professional decorum. he grunts at her and puts the cell phone back in his bag.

"well, didn't she tell him to sit up!! geez, he's still laying there like he's at the beach!"

"can you believe the gall?! who IS that?!"

"he must be new."

"doesn't anybody know who that is?!"

aaron turns around and interjects that the guy is listening to an ipod too. this news is met with gasps of horror and more whispers, as they didn't notice the ipod before. we determined that old people can't actually see ipods; such gadgets are outside of their realm of reality.

eventually, the middle school administrator comes down the aisle, apparently sent from the opposite side of the auditorium. he too leans down and interrupts margaritaville with a mumbled reprimand. another grunt, but this time the fellow actually does sit up and put his shoes on... a few minutes later he walks out of the room altogether.

all this transpired over the course of about an hour, during which the two old hens behind us never stopped talking about how offended they were that this young man was being so disrespectful to the presenter. incidently, they were talking so loudly and with so much prudish passion that aaron and i couldn't hear a damn thing the presenter was saying. hmm... irony makes my toes tingle with delight.

in all fairness, i wish i was still on the beach too.