I remember there was this one Lit. teacher in high-school who was randomly aggressive toward the students (always making a fuss if the kids were having fun in the hallways, accosting you if you didn’t greet her even though most of us had no idea who she was at the time, etc.).
One fated day, it was my turn to wash the blackboard erasers. All of the student bathrooms had been relegated to the upper levels, with the ones on the ground floor being assigned to the teachers. Class was about to start, I realised I couldn’t make it up the stairs and back again with clean erasers, so I bit the bullet and decided to stealth through it in the teachers’ bathroom.
I zipped across the empty hallway, opened the bathroom door, and there was the aforementioned teacher just finishing a hefty rail of either coke, or speed (or chalk dust! she was VERY weird) - all I got to see was the movement and the snort. She looks up at me, touches up her nose, and says: “there’s no more privacy in this world…” I slowly pull a Homer Simpson and slink into the bushes.
She didn’t say another word to me for the next 4 years I was in high-school.
I, too, am thankful, because all reason left me the instant I saw the teacher in there. I wasn’t mentally prepared for anyone’s presence, let alone… that:)) The only thought which crossed my mind was “smells like none of my business is in here.”
Honestly, yeah, makes perfect sense in retrospect. It’s one of those prestige institutions, supposed to be the best of the best in the entire county and in direct competition with other prestige institutions across the country. No wonder the teacher was bumping some, the pressure to teach there must’ve been at least as severe as the pressure to study.
I remember there was this one Lit. teacher in high-school who was randomly aggressive toward the students (always making a fuss if the kids were having fun in the hallways, accosting you if you didn’t greet her even though most of us had no idea who she was at the time, etc.).
One fated day, it was my turn to wash the blackboard erasers. All of the student bathrooms had been relegated to the upper levels, with the ones on the ground floor being assigned to the teachers. Class was about to start, I realised I couldn’t make it up the stairs and back again with clean erasers, so I bit the bullet and decided to stealth through it in the teachers’ bathroom.
I zipped across the empty hallway, opened the bathroom door, and there was the aforementioned teacher just finishing a hefty rail of either coke, or speed (or chalk dust! she was VERY weird) - all I got to see was the movement and the snort. She looks up at me, touches up her nose, and says: “there’s no more privacy in this world…” I slowly pull a Homer Simpson and slink into the bushes.
She didn’t say another word to me for the next 4 years I was in high-school.
Sounds like you made the best decision of your life that day.
I, too, am thankful, because all reason left me the instant I saw the teacher in there. I wasn’t mentally prepared for anyone’s presence, let alone… that:)) The only thought which crossed my mind was “smells like none of my business is in here.”
Aaaah, that’s why it is called high school.
Honestly, yeah, makes perfect sense in retrospect. It’s one of those prestige institutions, supposed to be the best of the best in the entire county and in direct competition with other prestige institutions across the country. No wonder the teacher was bumping some, the pressure to teach there must’ve been at least as severe as the pressure to study.