Thursday, May 22, 2008

Mrs. Jones Was Fat and Mean

Mrs. Jones was our teacher in 2nd and 3rd grade because my little city public school was seriously underfunded and our class was divided for two years into 2nd and 3rd graders, and Mrs. Jones was responsible for teaching both. She was severely overweight and had a blonde and very short haircut. I remember she had a son named Spencer who was a few years younger than us, but when she would bring him in on random days we'd treat him like a little baby because we thought we were Cool and Old and 10 Years Old. He hated us, and he always wore Polo before any of us knew what Polo was.

One day Mrs. Jones got sick of Amanda and I talking during class, and teasing our frenemy Geoff who had severe buckteeth and always ended up breaking random bones by falling out of trees or something else equally laughable. So she split us up, putting Amanda on the far side of the room. I was rightfully genuinely pissed, because in elementary school sitting next to your friend is this Big Deal, because you were always doing group projects and such. So Amanda and I start blatantly passing notes to each other. I write one to the effect of: Mrs. Jones is fat and mean. I can't believe she split us up! Write back.

Well, because I had bad luck even back then, Mrs. Jones of course intercepts the note and takes it to her desk and reads it. I am MORTIFIED. I just called my 3rd grade teacher FAT and I am convinced she is going to SUSPEND ME or even worse - SIT ON ME. So I'm freaking out, and while we're in the midst of some sort of stupid 3rd grade project, I sneak over to Mrs. Jones' desk and spy that she has left the note unfolded and laid out on her desk. I snatch it and pray to God she never got a chance to actually read it, nor will she notice that it even went missing.

Mrs. Jones never said anything to me but our teacher/student relationship was never the same, even after she was out of school for five months because she sliced open some random tendons and nerves while using a bagel cutter.


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