Thursday, December 23, 2010

Regina's School Daze

Regina’s School Daze
My sister didn’t particularly like school. 

Her first day of high school, she came home very unhappy.  Her friends were in all in different lunch period than she, and she thought her math class was too hard.

She complained to my mother and begged my mother to switch her out of her math class and into a different one at a different time.  This would allow her to eat lunch with her friends.

My mother’s solution was me.

She cajoled me into doing something about my sister’s problem.  I was in college and had not attended that high school so I didn’t know anyone there.  Never the less, it became my job to solve this issue.

I recruited my friend Mark to come along with me.

Mark was and is a funny guy.  He can be sarcastic, brash, and crazy.  He was often high. He also looked young.  People often mistook him for 3-4 years younger than he was.

The next morning we arrived at the high school.  I looked somewhat cleancut and Mark like a “greaser”, in a leather jacket, slicked back hair and a cigarette.

It was the 2nd day of the school year and there was a lot of shouting, running around and general chaos.
As we were looking around for the office, a woman came rushing toward us.  She was quite formidable looking and seemed to zero in on us.

“What are you doing here?”, “Is this your son?” she exclaimed much to my amusement and Mark’s discomfort.

“Why aren’t you in class?”, “Where is your schedule?” she said as she put her face directly up to Mark’s.
“Back off sweetheart” he said which both shocked and amazed her that a student would have the audacity to speak to her like that.

“I’m not a student here” he stated, which gave her pause.

“We’re looking for the office” I said, “where is that?”

“I’m the assistant principal” she said. “What do you want?”

I quickly explained that I was there to get my sister’s class changed.   She thought this over.  “Come with me “she said, and we followed her into her office.

“What seems to be the problem?” she asked.

I had my answer ready, which consisted of how my sister needed an easier math class and what class she could transfer into.  That would solve both problems since the new class would occur during the lunch hour she didn’t know anyone, leaving her to go to lunch in the period she did know people.

More to get us out of her sight than to solve a student’s problem (or so it seemed to me) and definitely wanting to get rid of Mark as quickly as possible, she agreed to the change.

We left quickly with the new schedule in hand.  My sister would be informed by her guidance counselor about the change the next morning.

All was right with the world.  My sister would be happy, my mother mollified and off my back, and I could get back to worrying about my own stuff.

No good deed goes unpunished.

When I came home that afternoon and informed my sister and mother about the wonderful job I had done, there was silence.

“What did you do?” my mother said.

“What you asked me to do” I replied.

“You’ll have to change it back” she stated.

“Are you crazy, why?” I stated perhaps a little too forcibly.

It seems my sister had made some friends at lunch, and found the male math teacher to be “dreamy”.  She wanted to stay in her old schedule (She actually did quite well in that class and with all other male teachers.  Not so well with female teachers).

“I’m not doing it, you do it” I told my mother.

“Don’t you want to help your sister?” she said trying to introduce guilt into the situation.

“No” I stated, “I’m not going back.  If you want it changed do it yourself”

My mother wound up going to the school the next morning.  I don’t know what she told them, but my sister remained where she was
. 
I always suspected she told the school I had changed my sister’s schedule as a prank.

I can live with that.

2 comments:

  1. To this day the image of the expression on the APs faces still creaks me up.
    I also remember volunteering to go back the next and your sister threatened my life.
    It was also the first time I went to High School high. College was another story.

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  2. It was funny, even at the time it was funny. I'm glad you are attesting to the validity of the stories. I think some people think I'm exaggerating or making them up

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