Chapter 57

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Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a freshly brewed cup of coffee. Then I read the paper while taking a nasty shit. The Korean powers that be are now thinking about arresting former president Park Geun-hye on corruption charges. I'm not the least bit surprised. Many Korean leaders have spent significant time in the pen. She'll just be another president behind bars. Ms. Park won't be the first, and she certainly won't be the last.

I called Ken. He told me his score on the PSAT. 940. Talk about a disappointment. But this is the first time that he's taken the test. Perhaps he'll improve with practice.

Sadly, I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, either. I basically have the same IQ as a dolphin. However, that's OK. God loves stupid people, too.

I drove to school with Rice-Boy Larry. We arrived late, and I had to run to the morning meeting. The fat American chemistry teacher gave a devotion. She told us to love the children as Jesus loves the children. I guess it's good advice.

I'm not a huge fan of Mrs. Fatty Science. She's one of Mr. Lipps's allies. I feel that Mr. Lipps does his best these days to undermine The Principal. Lipps used to be the vice principal several years ago before getting demoted. He desperately wants his power back.

My advanced English class was very difficult. Beverly caused problems again. I run the class like a writer's workshop, so the students are allowed to critique one another's work. Bev gets angry because I give the children good grades. She wants me to fail them all. However, this course is just an elective. Plus the kids speak English as a second language. With that in mind, their writing isn't half bad.

Bev said, "This essay is terrible. There's no detail. The sentences are awkward. How can you give this a passing grade? It would fail in an American school."

The writer was nearly in tears. "Please understand me. English is my third language." This kid speaks Mongolian, too.

Bev said, "I'm not saying that you're a bad person. But I take English seriously."

I said, "I taught in an American high school for five years. Trust me. This essay wouldn't fail. In fact, you'd probably get a B plus."

And this is true. I taught some real Texas dullards back in the day.

Beverly became angry. "Well, I went to a good public school."

One boy looked at her angrily. "Why don't you leave and go somewhere else?"

She said, "I would. But my parents are making me come here. The level of English is terrible."

I didn't argue with her. I wish she'd move to another class. She's becoming a fucking pain in my ass.

I drove home at 5 p.m. I had a Skype interview lined up with an international school in China. This place is expensive. The tuition for a high school student is more than many universities in America.

The guy who spoke to me is named Bob. He's from Texas, too. However, he's currently living in Beijing.

Bob said, "You'd be a good fit. We're looking for certified teachers."

I told him what I made.

He said, "Well, we can't pay you that much here. But the cost of living is much lower in China."

I smiled wanly. He got the drift and finally hung up. To be honest, I'm kind of relieved. I like my current gig.

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