So Much For No Child Left Behind, Part 3

, , , , , , | Learning | September 14, 2020

I am the author of So Much For No Child Left Behind. If you’ve read that, you know my dad had some behavior issues. However, this story makes me laugh because it really sets the tone for my life in general.

At thirty, I begin teaching at the high school my dad graduated from. I did some student teaching here, so I’m not unfamiliar with it. It’s worth noting that in Virginia, county and city schools are often separate, and I went to the county schools and my dad graduated from the city. It’s also very important to note that my family is not originally from here so my accent is somewhat confusing and instantly recognizable in my area.

I have been in my classroom for one year at this point, and I am rather happy with it. I had to do a lot of work to get it clean and in shape. The teacher that occupied the class before me left a mess, and the teacher who had the room before him was here for thirty years. I don’t think he threw away anything, and neither did she. There were books that had been in the closet since the seventies. I threw them away because, well, frankly, they were icky. I did notice that across the spines it looked like someone had slashed the word, “B****.” I may add that this was a glass front closet and it was just left there.

This will be important later.

Teachers have to help monitor and proctor standardized testing. I am helping an older woman I do not recognize and am later told was a teacher here and only became an administrator in her last few years to help out. It turns out she retired and was asked to help out this semester as we need a few extra people due to heavy cold and flu incidents.

After the testing, she’s getting me to sign forms necessary and she asks me where my room is. It turns out that her old room is my room! I’m so excited. I ask her if she wants to see what I’ve done and she declines, saying if she has to look at those books with “B****” on them she may scream.

Here is where I make my mistake. I say, “Oh, no, I tossed those out. They were old anyway.”

She narrows her eyes and says, “You threw out my books?!”

I am in WTF mode now. She retired! But I ask about it. She gives me this withering look. She tells me that she had a student she hated. He was loud, rude, and he somehow knew answers even when not really paying attention. She told me he once passed a test and she was sure he cheated because he skipped class several times. When she confronted him, he told her he knew his geography. She gave him some sort of detention, and in revenge, he slashed that on her books and waited.

She tells me that she called the principal the next day because he was the only one there. The principal confronted the student and told him he would have detention for a month. The student got mad, stormed out, and screamed, “I quit!” Incidentally, this was May, and they graduated in June.

She glares at me and says, “I would look at those books every day and remember that not all students are smart, and not all students are dumb, but some smart students make very dumb decisions.”

As an experienced teacher, I know you seldom forget names. So, I ask who this stunning pupil was.

She looks at me and says, “[My Dad].”

My jaw nearly drops to my toes. I tell her, “That was my father. He died eight years ago.”

Her eyes widen like she’s caught me in a lie. “I knew you had that same snotty Norfolk accent! His kid turned out well enough to be a teacher?!”

So, to sum it up, I ended up in the classroom where my dad quit school and I threw away the evidence that the teacher kept because she loathed my dad. By the end of the week, all of the teachers in the building and some of his former classmates who worked there knew about it. Then, the students found out about it.

It became a running joke to ask me who else I was destroying evidence for. It also made me super popular with the alumni, because they all liked my dad and said he was totally justified. The staff that knew the teacher always wanted to thank him for making her miserable when they could not.

So, thanks, Dad!

Also, he did go back and finish high school.

Related:
So Much For No Child Left Behind, Part 2
So Much For No Child Left Behind

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Thinking Too Highly Of Those Eye Drops

, , , , | Right | September 14, 2020

I am a cashier at a large chain pharmacy. A customer comes up to my register with a bag of chips, a Mountain Dew, and a box of eye drops, specifically eye-whitening eye drops. He is very clearly stoned.

Me: “Did you find everything okay?”

Customer: “Yeeaaaahhhh…”

I finish the transaction and then turn to a coworker.

Me: “I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling, buying those eye drops.”

Coworker: “Yeah, his eyes aren’t the only giveaway!”

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Redefining “Monster-In-Law”

, , , , | Related | September 13, 2020

My mother-in-law works on her own schedule. I am 100% convinced it’s a power play but she insists it’s always just bad luck. It also only seems to impact the events that my husband and I plan. If you tell her to be somewhere by 2:00 pm, she likely will not get there before 3:00 pm. And it’s never her fault; someone else took too long in the shower or traffic was bad or she got a phone call. She also never gives you a heads-up about what time she will actually be arriving.

When my husband and I get married, we decide to go to a courthouse and have a celebration and reception at the local park the next day. The courthouse has us scheduled for 3:00 pm. When we call my mother-in-law to tell her the time, we tell her 2:00 pm. When my husband calls his dad — they’re divorced — he tells them 3:00 pm. Everyone arrives around 2:30, except for my mother-in-law. At 2:55, she comes strolling in, all smiles, and… dressed in white.

Mother: *Fake sad* “I am so sorry I’m late! I hope you waited for me? I can’t miss my son’s—” *air quotes* “—‘wedding.’”

She takes her son’s arm and turns to me.

Mother: “What did you tell the justice? How did you get him to wait?”

Me: *Smiling* “We’re scheduled for 3:00 pm. You’re right on time.”

Her face fell, and she turned red and stormed out. We went through with our “wedding” without her. The next day, she didn’t show up at the park until the very end. She tried to make it sound like we had purposely told her the wrong time and that we wanted her to miss it, but everyone in attendance was familiar with her shenanigans and she ended up sitting alone, pouting.

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Talk About Spoiled!

, , , , , , | Friendly | September 12, 2020

We woke one day to discover that our mailbox and the culvert for our driveway had been completely demolished. Car parts were everywhere.

The state trooper told my husband the driver had swerved to miss a deer. He also seemed to believe she was the only one in the car.

We spent hours cleaning the site, temporarily stopping our mail, and contacting the county to fix the culvert. 

Not-so-fun fact: the county will do the work, but the homeowner must purchase the culvert elsewhere. So another hour is spent finding a replacement. The cost is over seven hundred and fifty dollars.

An hour and eighty-five dollars were spent shopping for a new mailbox and post.

In the course of one week, the driver’s accident cost us over eight hundred dollars and ten hours.

The day after the accident, her parents stopped by with a promise to pay as she has no insurance.

At one point, I said, “The trooper said she was avoiding a deer “

The dad snorted and said, “And you believe that?!”

The mother winced and explained, “I was in the car with my granddaughter. There was no deer. This is the fourth car she’s wrecked this year. We told her we’re not buying her another one.”

You can probably guess that not only did they not pay us anything, but they bought her another vehicle.

How do I know? Because later, she almost hit me head-on as I was nearing the end of our road and she was entering it. I slammed on the brakes. She hid her face.

Just last week, she drove past my house and flipped me off.

Being forgiving and generous to other people does not always end well.

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When The Operating System IS The Malware

, , , | Right | September 11, 2020

I work at a computer store that offers fixed-price computer-virus and trojan removal.

Customer: “I think my computer has a computer-virus; it says something odd when it starts.”

Me: “Okay, let’s have a look.”

I boot the machine and it gives a message about a pirated copy of Windows.

Customer: “That’s the computer-virus!”

Me: “No, it says that because it has an illegal copy of the operating system. They release updates that include checks every now and then, and they’ve discovered yours is a fake.”

Customer: “The kids must have gotten that when the antivirus expired.”

Me: “Um, no. It’s been like that since it was installed.”

Customer: “You advertise computer-virus removal; remove it!”

Me: “It’s not a computer-virus; it’s an illegal piece of software.”

Customer: “You have to do it; you advertise it!”

Me: “I’d be happy to remove any malware from your computer, but it wouldn’t still remove the error message you are seeing. I can’t remove your operating system unless you want me to install a legit copy.”

Customer: “Thanks for nothing, nerd!”

The customer grabbed his laptop and then walked out, kicking the doors.

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