2011-03-06

A High School Story

In one of my recent 'Daycare Update' posts, I mentioned that a guy I've known since kindergarten (but don't keep in touch with except for when we bump into one another once a year or something) is dating my director's sister.

In the post I said I would tell the story of a predicament in high school (of which was a usual occurence with me) he and I found ourselves in.

***

It was 1989 in the school's Chapel. Our insane Irish catholic priest was at his priceless, vulgar best and his diatribes were enough to rile a pack of psychotic boys revving and itching to stir trouble. After swearing his way through a moral fable, he proceeded to go and sit in his quarters to listen to Confession.

No one went in. We all sat in silence refusing to go. Then, we had the idea, and don't ask why, of doing a human pyramid...in the Chapel.

Just as we were getting to the top, the Priest, probably wondering what was going on, came out. A look of brief disbelief suspended in thin air as we stared at him waiting to see what this nutcase was going to do. I wasn't in the pyramid but I still remember watching the standoff with delicious contentment. Suddenly, Father Cox said just as our morals teacher walked in, "get these assholes out of here" and down came the pyramid crumblin' and tumblin' to sacred ground.

Next thing we know, it was Delta Tau Chi redux. Guys were scattering for safety trying to elude the teacher. Why, I'm not sure. The rebellelion spilled over into the hallways and soon the Principal and other teachers were in the hunt searching us.

I found myself running with Eric who was eating a bag of carrots and celery.

It was an especially tough spot for me as I was in enough trouble that week. I was afraid of getting expelled and this was the sort of thing to make any principal mad like Dean Wormer.

I told Eric I couldn't get caught. So we returned back to the Chapel by that time existing in peaceful spirituality. In other words, it was empty.

I rattled off a few nervous questions. "What do we do? Where do we hide? Why do we need to hide? How did it end up like this? Maybe I should just quietly go back to class? Why can't I just be a god damn good student? What if..." Eric was quietly and calmly eating listening to me while examining a door. He opened it and said, "how about in here?" "Father Cox's private bathroom?" I asked.

"It's the safest place. Principal Mariano will not look in here." Sounded logical to me.

In we went.

While absurdedly standing in a cold, tight bathroom, all I heard was Eric biting into his vegetables. "Want a carrot?" he asked in the dark. We didn't even bother to turn the light on. "Sure." There we stood eating carrots for a few seconds when our logical plan broke. The principal swung the door open. He saw two of his students eating carrots in the Priest's bathroom. He was stunned and asked, "Wh-what are you doing in there?" Now that I think of it, I hope he didn't think...

"Nothing, sir." Eric said. "Get to class this second."

Off we went.

"Not you, T.C. No, you go to room 1B right now!"

I was given a severe warning.

As I left the office, I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

5 comments:

  1. That's a very good one, and you did get away easy...even though you had done nothing, at least that is what I infer from your narration.

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  2. Yeah, sometimes I just found myself in situations I wasn't looking for. I wasn't a ring leader and I explained that to the hall monitor.

    Some days I would promise myself I'd listen and do my best and next thing I knew circumstances or luck would lead me to trouble.

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  3. Anonymous3/07/2011

    I was the one who would always, always get caught. I learned not to even try because the consequences were just going to be worse for me every time.

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  4. Anonymous3/11/2011

    Sorry to jump in like the usual literary bastard who says this like this and that like that – and what the hell do I know about literature English in the name of God one should ask -, but man, THAT is really good stuff, very J. D. Salinger-like. J.D. wrote a small book maybe 15 times this post, with a similar style – at times yours is better, at times his is better - and he got so famous he had to hide somewhere for the rest of his life. Ok, but that's not you, you are Italiano, I see you dressed up chic with a vintage Lancia, sucking Cuba cigars and with broads all over the place.

    Yes “broads, we can’t live with them …. but pass the beer nuts”.

    Go ahead like that amico. Forget all the politics that seems to obsess you to the extent of distraction. It is so damn boring (and useless most of the time) that even the politicians who make a helluva money out of it frigging yawn all the time.

    :-) moronic comment most of it but not all of it, no, not all of it. And it’s 4:36 am here.

    Saludos

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  5. Some nice words in there - probably because you're up at 4am.

    Ma va dormire!

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Mysterious and anonymous comments as well as those laced with cyanide and ad hominen attacks will be deleted. Thank you for your attention, chumps.