What do I mean by hell? Well of course I'm referring to the 10 items or less line at Shaw's.
Anyway, there were like, 16 little old ladies in front of me, paying for their purchases with coupons and checks. There was no where for me to go.
I was completely screwed--trapped--essentia
And naturally, the little old lady in front of me chose the moment when I was in the deepest depths of despair, pressing on an eyebrow twitch, to turn around and start talking to me.
Surprisingly, despite all my attempts to overcome it, I have a streak of natural politeness that just won't go away; so, short of stapling a "Please Don't Talk to Me" sign on my forehead, I have no way of avoiding the seemingly limitless numbers of people who want to talk to me. I mean, I know I'm nothing special to look at, so how do I end up having all these people want to talk to me? Do I look interesting? Or perhaps it's my very ordinary-ness... I have no clue.
Naturally, after a close examination of the items I was hoisting in my arms, she started with the basics.
"My my, those are a lot of school supplies. Are you taking a class?"
"Oh no, they're for my job."
"Really? What do you do?"
"I'm a teacher."
"Oh my goodness! What do you teach?"
"High and Middle School English."
At this point she stuttered a bit... The idea of me molding impressionable minds seems to have this effect on quite a few people actually. Go figure.
"Well dear, I would not have guessed that you were old enough to be a teacher."
Uh... at this point, I stuttered a bit myself. Seriously? Seriously? I mean, I like to think that I don't look SUPER old or anything... But the day is long past when anyone would have mistaken me for a high schooler... Hell, when I was IN high school most people thought I looked like a college student... No idea why.
She then hit me with the inevitable follow up comment:
"Well, I just don't know how you can do that. God bless you, honey."
At this point, I was dismissed from her mind as if I had never been there.
Which leads to my inevitable point...
Why DO I teach?
Well, in the spirit of the 10 items or less aisle, which began this random rant... I'll give you ten reasons.
10.) Kids will say whatever they are thinking... and since I do that as well, I seem to fit right in with them.
9.) I get to essentially tell stories, laugh, and play games all day. (AND I get PAID for it! SCORE!!!)
8.) I am not materialistic, so I'm not anxious to have a house or Maui or a Ferrari. Teacher pay works for me. Plus, I do love to shop for school supplies... Sick, I know.
7.) In what other job can you take off with kids for a day at the beach, and have it be totally legit? Umm... try... none, that I can think of.
6.) I love that moment when you are explaining/discussing something with a kid, and s/he "gets it." That totally rocks.
5.) I hated every minute of high school, with a few notable exceptions... Most notably, some very good teachers who I became friends with. When I took on this job my greatest hope was that I could do for a few kids what those teachers did for me... Basically, to give them a reason not to throw themselves down a set of stairs or drown themselves in a locker room toilet.
4.) I love to tell stories... Remember the one about how Kevin Dame has a glass eye? Yeah, that one was all mine BABY!
3.) I get a total thrill out of screwing with kids. Seriously... This is really the only reason to become a teacher and stick with it. It's at number three here, but if I had to choose, it would be the one and only reason. I know that some people just won't understand what I mean here, just trust me, I'm not talking about being mean or anything, I just love to mess with teenagers, and they really get a kick out of it.
2.) As much as I generally just want everyone to shut up and stop talking to me, ironically, I rarely get tired of conversing with teenagers... They do absolutely everything in their power to ensure that I never get too impressed with myself... Especially when they say things like this to me: (NOTE: This is a conversation that actually took place in one of my middle school classes last week with a student I will call "Short Stuff/Monkey Boy")
Short Stuff: I think _____________ needs a boyfriend, don't you?
Me: I have no idea; can we please change the subject?
Short Stuff: I think you need a boyfriend too.
Me: Uh... O-kay?
Monkey Boy: Do you already have a boyfriend?
(Now realizing that this has been the point of the entire discussion, I give up and figure if I answer his question we might be able to get back to the book we are reading/discussing. Basically, I caved.)
Me: (Sigh). No, Monkey Boy, I do not have a boyfriend, and PS, that's really none of your business, is it?
(pause--crickets chirp in the background)
Monkey Boy: Have you EVER had a boyfriend?
Me: ARGH!!! Yes, yes I have!! Can we get back to work now?
Monkey Boy: Sure. But I think you definitely need to find a boyfriend.
At which point we are finally able to finish discussing Joey Pigza Swallowed the Key.
And last of all...
1.) Knowing that I am attempting, although in a very small way, to help people and hopefully make the world a better and kinder place, helps me sleep at night. I work hard, and I try my best, and sometimes it works out.
This is the best job ever.
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