Drowning In Self Worth

Flashback

Hey, it's me.
I'm writing this on my phone at 2am because I simply have a desire to write something. A life like mine, full of dumb stories.. I'm sure I can pull one out of the hat.

This is short and stupid, but more comical than most things I write about so a change of pace might cheer you up if you've been brought down by the rest of this tragedy. Being 22, and this being a story from school when I was 17, it might be hazy. But I remember the most of the story.

It all started in Physics class. Our teacher wasn't a teacher. Our entire student body was certain that this man didn't have access to a shower and lived in his car. His hair was so greasy that honestly, you could have used it to deep fry something. And he just wasn't a smart guy. We had a test one day, and a student literally had to correct his answers for him when he wrote them on the whiteboard. And this wasn't a ploy of some sort where he wrote the wrong answers on purpose, he was just an idiot. This particular incident spans over two lessons, and my friend (who we'll call Luna) had missed a week or so of school because her mother was hospitalised. She had returned that Wednesday morning to class and we'd all given her our hellos and how are yous. The teacher in question had a huge issue with her not being present in his lessons. A HUGE problem with it to the point where he called her every name under the sun including but not limited to "bitch", "whore", "class skipping cunt" and things to that effect. She left his class not long after that happened, unsurprisingly. She returned the following day to attend his class having given in a written letter from her mother to the Student Body Representative, our form tutor, and the Vice Headmaster. She took her seat, and class happened as it usually would, which, no lies, was an out of control mess. Generally our class was chatty, but that's what happens when you put 11 girls and a gay in a room together. We still got our work done... Most of the time. Anywho, class that day went on as usual, and at the end of the lesson, the teacher asked for Luna and another who hadn't been present to witness the previous days events to stay after the lesson. And I swear to you what happened after this actually happened because it is one of my proudest comedic moments. Sensing that something stupid was going to happen, I hid my happy little self under a desk when everyone else left. Like I said, some shit was about to go down. And I'm sitting here smirking at the thought of this. So our beloved teacher was berrating Luna about how he had said none of the things which he had actually said, and then asked the other student who wasn't there (let's call her Leah) to corroborate his story. Leah literally said "Sir, what are you talking about? I wasn't there" and he thought this was her backing him up. His words were something like "See!? She believes me". I was still under a desk whilst all this was happening. At this point, in the corner behind a radiator I'd found a small African drum which I believe is called a djembe. And yes, this all happened. I admit I got distracted for a minute by the drum, but having been hearing Luna, Leah and the teacher squabble like angry turkeys for a few minutes, I emerged very theatrically, saying "Now let me tell you why that's bullshit". The teacher was sort of stunned into silence, granting my classmates a perfect opportunity to escape. I mean, I get why the teacher didn't say anything. Who expects a raging homosexual to appear out of nowhere with an African drum? Not that bitch. He was also blocking my exit from the room so I had to skip over a few desks to leave while he was still standing there wondering what to do with his life.

From then on until the end of the year, he behaved. Probably more due to the incredulous letter Lunas mother had written to the school than spontaneous gays with instruments. I have never told my parents this, which makes sense, so when my mother reads this she might understand more why my teachers hated me. And the teacher still wasn't a good teacher after this. Pretty sure he got the sack at the end of that year from the amount of students complaining about his methods and/or physical appearance and body odor.

And so ends this delightful school tale. I hope you enjoyed it, and I'll try and write more regularly. Thank you for reading and I'll see you soon.

All the best,
-Constance Olivia Jones