“Oh, well….”Huh.“I haven't, have I?”
Vicky smiles at me, “You haven’t complained about any of your house stuff recently. And, no offense, but you like, always have something to complain about.”
“Ohmy God, Vicky, you’re rotten. I do not do that.”I definitely do.
Vicky rolls her eyes and then they catch on something over my shoulder. “Shit, incoming.”Shedoesn’t mind cussing in school, but she also has tenure. It would take an act of congress or murder to get her out of the job.
I turn around to find Taylor putting a giant box of chocolates on the table for shareable goods. She says, to nobody in particular, “My baby sent me these to share, he knows how important it is for me to make a good impression. I’ll tell him I enjoyed a couple bites, but I need to keep it tight for his enjoyment.” A manicured hand runs down the side of her, admittedly tight, figure. “Dig in, ladies, and gentlemen.” Of course, the last bit is said in a low throaty voice towards the men in the room. Then she sashays out.
“She’s kinda gross.” Sonya says it quietly, out of the blue, while her eyes remain on the table of our male counterparts, and Vicky and I burst out laughing.
“I think we’ll keep you,” Vicky gasps, still laughing.
Sonya gives us a shy smile, and I have to agree with Vicky.
Teaching has always been my happy place, but lately the drama is not originating with the teens and tweens, and that is not a comfortable environment foranyoneto work in. Allies are a must. This poison Taylor spreads needs to stop, and I’m in the process of finding a way to flush our halls of it. I just wish I had recognized that same poison present in my own relationship sooner.
“Hey, wanna meet us at Joe’s this evening for a drink, burgers, and some gossip?” Vicky asks Sonya.
“You absolutely should. Vicky is the best gossip, and it’s Women’s Wednesday. Half price.” I smile and nudge Sonya, adding some peer pressure.
“I guess I can do that.” She’s still looking at the other table, but when I look to see who she might be looking at, none of them are looking back over at us.
“Perfect! We’re inviting another of my friends to meet us there.” I’m excited to see where this friendship can go.
The bell rings and we all groan. We love our jobs, but it’s still a job.
“Here we go again.” Mutters Sonya under her breath.
I laugh again. Yeah, I think I’ll keep her.
?????
“Ms Harrison, could you pass out the copies?—”
“Oh, shoot I forgot to tell you that there was an issue with the printer. I didn’t get to them. My bad.” Taylor says from her desk, without looking up from her phone. She remains in the far back corner of my room, and despite my warning her about the school policy on flowers due to allergy concerns, another bouquet sits there front and center. As if hearing me, she reaches out to straighten the most recent arrangement.
I watch as a student rolls their eyes at her action.Cheese and rice this woman.
Now that the handout is unavailable because of incompetence, I mentally flip through my catalog of options when Ned raises his hand. “I’ll go get it Ms. Duchamp. I know how to follow the error messages on the printers no problem.” A few snickers follow his statement, but I just hold out my ID so he can take care of it.
“Isn’t this the sixth or seventh time you’ve handed a student your ID today, Duchamp?” Anobviouslyconcerned eighth grade student asks.Completely innocentlysetting off their favorite litany this year.
“Six seven”
“Six seeeven”
“Six seveeeen,” echoes around my final English class of the day.
“Very funny, Bradley. Youeightwith that one.” Groans and chuckles follow that pun.
Mental high five.
“While we wait —“ I begin, and shockingly, get interrupted.
“Six or seven minutes.” Calls Sophia, ever helpful.
“Six—”
