Things are Getting Real Again

Today was great. I got to hang out with the remedial kids again and this time, ohhh-hooo this time I was the big kahuna. After a 1 hour delay because of icy roads, I headed to the Barnstable Middle School where I filled in for Ms. Scannell (the head teacher). She was absent so this time I wasn’t just hanging around helping out, I was kicking ass and taking names. I have much to talk about for today, so sit back and listen.

We started out the day with personal goals of what each kid wanted to achieve throughout the day. I’ll include a few of the gems below to get things rolling here.

Brooke (The one who was in jail the last time I was in the classroom. She has an affinity for telling people to fuck themselves, as do I) – “no swearing (loudly)” – I’ll be the first to say that this goal was NOT achieved.

Cassie (Brooke’s sidekick) – “don’t throw shit at people” – Eh, so so.

Domenick (A newcomer, more on him later) – “don’t fight anyone” – Yeah, seriously.

James (A relatively [key word] well behaved young man who is constantly listening to big pun on his ipod. I think I am going to explode if I hear “I’m not a player” one more time) – “no pickle puffing” – he achieved his goal nicely today. I was certainly pulling for him.

Clayton (The little guy with the worst case of ADD I’ve ever seen. And yes, that includes Chase) – “Sit on my ass” – Out of all the goals set for today, this was the most lofty, and the only one framed in a positive manner instead of in a “don’t” or “not” fashion. Needless to say, he did not achieve this goal for more than about 20 seconds at a time.

As the morning began, I kept drifting off into fantasies involving me with the TA’s awesome butt, and little to no clothes. Man that thing is great. I just want to oil myself up and slide all over it like a slip and slide. I hope she doesn’t read this, and I’m not sure how she would react. If she does, this could go one of two ways, 1. She takes it as a compliment and tells me never to talk to her again, or 2. She is insulted and kicks me in the nuts. I’m really hoping for the second one. When I came back from my fantasy, I noticed that Clayton had on an interesting t-shirt.

Nice. His shirt must have offended the John McCain supporter, Cassie, because they began to quarrel immediately after the first bell rang.

Cassie “Yo, fuck you Clayton”

Clayton “Go back to P-Town you dumb bitch.”

Cassie “Clayton, I’m gonna fucking punch you in you’re fucking face you piece of shit” (throws binder).

Clayton “Well I’m gonna leave and go home and sue the shit out of you, cunt.”

Cassie “Well I’ll sue you back”

Clayton “You can’t because you’ll be too busy taking the turbo twinkie”

Ahhhh, politics. I’d like to take a minute out here to say that today was the first time I’ve ever heard the term “turbo twinkie”, but I like it. I think I’m going to bring it into my vernacular as often as I can. For example, If Ethan doesn’t score with Lizzie soon, he’s going to have to start taking the turbo twinkie instead.

After that dispute settled down, I began reading my book. By reading, I mean re-reading the same page for 20 minutes while I listened to T.I.’s new album, “Paper Trail” that was coming from James’ Ipod 20 feet away. That’s got to be good for his eardrums.

Thankfully, I had a break in my peaceful day when I got a call from the main office asking me to bring Domenick down there. Apparent(ly) he had bullied a girl into giving him 10 dollars on his walk home the day before and although she didn’t know his name, she wanted to see him in order to make sure she could ID him. I brought him down to the office and she fingered him, then pointed him out, and I didn’t see him for the rest of the day. He hadn’t done any pickle puffing up to this point, so I can honestly say that as far as I know, he achieved his goal for today. Good for him.

After that we went to gym where I popped a few jump shots in all of their five foot four faces and made them sorry they ever challenged me to that game of 21. On the walk back from the gym, Dan, James, and Clayton were getting awfully rowdy in the hallway, swears included, and the Principal happened to be walking by. She brought them back to the room and made them write on a sheet of paper what they had done wrong and how they should be punished. None of them wrote a word, and she left. In an effort to get them to write something, I had them write about a funny story they had. This is what James had to offer.

“Me and Clayton wuz chilled mad blazed and we decided to go to the mall and Clayton and me decided to run from the po pos cuz they all hoes.”

I told him that he was right up there with Earnest Hemmingway. He asked me who the fuck that was. I told him to sit down.

Finally, it was time for the spelling test, where several students had trouble spelling “magizeen, comitty, paltree, and cenitor”. We then turned to some algebra work where they excelled nicely, finishing half of a worksheet and before I knew it, the day was over: another fine day in the remedial classroom. I could get used to this.