Can’t Kick Old Habits

(In middle school, I have a health teacher who looks like a gentleman; he’s old and has glasses, neat gray hair, and a cane, walking with a slight limp, and wears a tweed suit every day. He is a bit short, around 5’5″, and isn’t imposing at all. His voice is slightly scruffy and monotone, but mostly everyone respects him. One day we’re learning about drugs.)

Teacher: “All right, class. So, if anyone were to offer you any drugs, like so…”

(All of a sudden, he sets his cane against his desk, drops into what I can only call a “thug” pose, and says with a “gangsta” accent:)

Teacher: “Ey, my man, want soma dis?”

(All the students are shocked as he gets back up, gets his cane, and continues teaching. Rare but similar moments happen later in the year. I’m in high school now, and the same health teacher has transferred to the high school. My friend and I often walk past him standing in front of his door when we go to our math class. My friend is very talkative, annoying, and can sometimes be cruel without knowing it. One day we are reminiscing on how much more of a d**k he was in middle school.)

Me: “…and remember that time when I kicked you in the crotch?”

(Just as I say this, we pass the health teacher, and he mutters something under his breath. My friend suddenly looks impressed and starts laughing.)

Friend: “[Teacher]! Oh, my God!”

Me: “What? What’d he say?”

Friend: “‘Kick him again!’”