Saturday, March 14, 2009

You know why I don't want to date her?

Because she's got thin lips.

She's clever. Witty, even. Her lips say fun things. And she is otherwise pretty. So how unfair is it to give her these thin, non-inviting lips? My lips would like totally smother her lips. Her lips just aren't competitive in the juicy kissing arena. It's unfair. But it's also my biological imperative to seek out fuller and fleshier playgrounds.

Thus I am stalking the undercover security guard at the Rite Aid around the corner. I was in there to buy intimacy aids from the family planning section, which is arranged awkwardly right beneath the pharmacist's window. She was there as I rounded aisle corner, medium black and stuffed (stuffed) into bedazzled jeans. She was picking through the lubricants, reading the product details on a black and neon bottle of something called Wet.

I did not know she was the undercover security person for the store. I just needed condoms and had to maneuver around her to get them. Things were immediately awkward and intriguing. She did not shuffle away immediately, and hung around even as I had to reorganize the condom boxes in order to get the brand I was looking for.

We glanced at each other a few times. In retrospect, she was just wondering if I was a thief. I, however, was wondering if cosmic irony allowed one to ask out one girl while very obviously buying condoms to go have sex with another. I decided no and paid for my stuff.

That's when cosmic irony set off the alarms as I was leaving the store. She came rushing over and revealed herself as the security person. She asked to see my receipt and inside my bag and had to take out the box of condoms and and examine the security tag and began mumbling awkwardly about how those things never work right and thanks and sorry for the inconvenience, to which I responded, "No problem. See you tomorrow." And then I left, thinking, See you tomorrow? What?

So I went back the next day, caught her eye as she pretended to be a customer at the end of the greeting card aisle, and then conspicuously stuffed my pockets full of Happy Bat Mitzvah cards. I got out of the store scott free, and I don't even know any Jews of age for the cards. Tonight I am going back to steal something more useful, probably AstroGlide, in the hopes that this time she'll catch me.

The Teaching

People have said, Say something about the teaching! In response, I have so far said nothing about the teaching. It is a mixed bag, the teaching, and I don't want to talk about it, except to say that it is consuming my brain since grades are due Friday and I have procrastinated so much on them that the anxiety of facing the mountain of papers that must be read has become a nearly physical barrier to doing the work that must be done.

One of my students was handcuffed outside my classroom during 7th period this Tuesday. Again. Another of my students is a sexual predator, doing horrible things to the girls, and nobody will do anything about it. Suspensions of students -- in my classes alone -- for bringing knives to school = 2 so far this year. My students have started their own YouTube channel for fights they record in the playground. An entire fucking channel.

The administration has begun witch hunts to get rid of senior staff members because anyone with more than 6 or 7 years is apparently too expensive to keep on. At the same time, inexpensive teachers are getting cheap praise (i.e. "encouragement to come back next year") even when we're doing a fuck all job of things.

According to many people, my school is one of the best middle schools in the city. Seriously.