Big Bad Russ, etc
I made the acquaintence of one Miss Russ today... the infamous, the legendary. Many a tale had I heard of her exploits, but never until today have I had the... opportunity? ... to meet her face to face. This is the very large, very black English teacher, whose black students (so I'm told) aren't required to turn in homework.
We are waiting in the hall for Steinman (her door is locked, the lights are on in her room, and she is elsewhere). Up comes the aforementioned Russ, who tries the handle several times (despite our insistances that we would have gone in if it was unlocked) while telling us that she will be watching our class for a while until Steinman gets back.
Us: Oh, you're subbing for Miss Steinman. Cool, welcome, etc.
Russ: I'm not a sub. I'm a real teacher.
Us: But you're watching us until Steinman gets back, right?
Russ: Yea.
Us: So you're our sub.
Russ: No, I ain't no sub. I'm a real teacher.
Us: You're a real teacher who's filling in for Steinman for a while. Ok. Fine.
Russ: I ain't no sub.
Us: Let's say you're Miss Steinman's proxy, fair enough?
Russ: Uh, I don't know what that is, but ok. Get in the class.
Us: The door's still locked.
So Chad went around through Robinet's room to let us in. Class began; Steinman had left us with a practice AP test which would not be counted as a grade. Russ began to hand them out, just in time for my open binder to slip from my desk into my chair, depositing my papers in a small pile on the floor. I quietly bent to scoop them up.
Russ: Whatchoo doin?
Me: Just getting my papers, Ma'am.
Russ: Getcho butt back in'at chair!
Me: Yes Ma'am, I was just getting my -
Russ: Sit down in that chair so I can pass out this test!
Me: *bites tongue*
The test begins. Roughly half an hour passes, and it dawns on the woman that I have a large and obvious cup on my desk, from which I have been quietly sipping for the past thrity minutes.
Russ: You know you cain't have that in here!
Me: (looks around and realizes she was talking to me) Me?
Russ: That soda! You cain't have that in here!
Me: Oh. *gets up to throw it out*
Russ: Nah, you ain't gotta throw it away. Take it outside and finish it.
Me: *goes*
I go out in the hall and sit on the floor, nursing the cup. Some time passes, and Mike Ciemko comes by. We banter about Ros and Guil, subs, etcetera. Enter Russ. Mike vanishes.
Russ: I ain't give you permission to have a party out here!
Me: *getting up* Oh, I'm sor-
Russ: Don't you go nowhere, you stay here and finish that beverage!
Me: *sitting back down* Okay...
I drink for a few more minutes (you can't chug a Doctor Pepper, you'll be sick) and decide she's probably coming back out soon to make sure I haven't skipped out. I go back into class, setting down the still-not-empty soda next to the trash can.
I have at this point spent about fifteen minutes outside; there are about five left for the NOT GRADED test. I still finish in plenty of time.
Enter Steinman, exit Russ.
Me: *goes and fetches soda, returns to seat, sips happily*
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I think the read-only LJ nonsense might be my computer screwing up. It randomly happens for periods of thirty seconds to several minutes. I will click to update journal and type a short entry, hit the submit button and find it is in read-only mode. Then I will try once or twice more and it will add the entry without a problem.
Odd.
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Miranda was better today, although she was as silent as she usually is. She started talking to me about yesterday, although she didn't say anything. Interesting; I wouldn't have thought she'd have wanted me to know any more.
Another time in class (we were maxing on cleans today, so once we were done there wasn't much to do), I looked over and she was playing on one of the machines, like a middle schooler, pulling the handle back rediculously far and trying to hold on. She inevitably lost her grip on it, sending it clamoring back against the machine. I laughed, and she sent me a look that said, "What?"
She amuses me in her characteristic hyperness. Perhaps it is how she has learned to cope. I can just barely see what I saw full-on yesterday, the shit she deals with underneath. It keeps me just removed from understanding, from connecting with her. It is either a challenge or a warning to stay away, and I'm not sure either one of us knows which.
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Steinman thinks I should take Jen Kmetz to prom. I don't know whether to laugh or not; who knows, there's always a chance I will. Prom is a billion years away, who knows what will happen, who I'll think is Miss Right then. Or just Miss Right Then. Haha.
I am a man keenly aware of his fickleness and shallowness. It is wonderful and miserable and even a bit bland, methinks.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Tomorrow night starts our rehearsals for RnG. Supposedly there are scripts waiting for Dee in the mail room; guess I'll find out tomorrow in class.
Two and a half hours tomorrow morning to run stuff with Mike and Ty and the others. There is a God.
We are waiting in the hall for Steinman (her door is locked, the lights are on in her room, and she is elsewhere). Up comes the aforementioned Russ, who tries the handle several times (despite our insistances that we would have gone in if it was unlocked) while telling us that she will be watching our class for a while until Steinman gets back.
Us: Oh, you're subbing for Miss Steinman. Cool, welcome, etc.
Russ: I'm not a sub. I'm a real teacher.
Us: But you're watching us until Steinman gets back, right?
Russ: Yea.
Us: So you're our sub.
Russ: No, I ain't no sub. I'm a real teacher.
Us: You're a real teacher who's filling in for Steinman for a while. Ok. Fine.
Russ: I ain't no sub.
Us: Let's say you're Miss Steinman's proxy, fair enough?
Russ: Uh, I don't know what that is, but ok. Get in the class.
Us: The door's still locked.
So Chad went around through Robinet's room to let us in. Class began; Steinman had left us with a practice AP test which would not be counted as a grade. Russ began to hand them out, just in time for my open binder to slip from my desk into my chair, depositing my papers in a small pile on the floor. I quietly bent to scoop them up.
Russ: Whatchoo doin?
Me: Just getting my papers, Ma'am.
Russ: Getcho butt back in'at chair!
Me: Yes Ma'am, I was just getting my -
Russ: Sit down in that chair so I can pass out this test!
Me: *bites tongue*
The test begins. Roughly half an hour passes, and it dawns on the woman that I have a large and obvious cup on my desk, from which I have been quietly sipping for the past thrity minutes.
Russ: You know you cain't have that in here!
Me: (looks around and realizes she was talking to me) Me?
Russ: That soda! You cain't have that in here!
Me: Oh. *gets up to throw it out*
Russ: Nah, you ain't gotta throw it away. Take it outside and finish it.
Me: *goes*
I go out in the hall and sit on the floor, nursing the cup. Some time passes, and Mike Ciemko comes by. We banter about Ros and Guil, subs, etcetera. Enter Russ. Mike vanishes.
Russ: I ain't give you permission to have a party out here!
Me: *getting up* Oh, I'm sor-
Russ: Don't you go nowhere, you stay here and finish that beverage!
Me: *sitting back down* Okay...
I drink for a few more minutes (you can't chug a Doctor Pepper, you'll be sick) and decide she's probably coming back out soon to make sure I haven't skipped out. I go back into class, setting down the still-not-empty soda next to the trash can.
I have at this point spent about fifteen minutes outside; there are about five left for the NOT GRADED test. I still finish in plenty of time.
Enter Steinman, exit Russ.
Me: *goes and fetches soda, returns to seat, sips happily*
-------------------------------------------------------------
I think the read-only LJ nonsense might be my computer screwing up. It randomly happens for periods of thirty seconds to several minutes. I will click to update journal and type a short entry, hit the submit button and find it is in read-only mode. Then I will try once or twice more and it will add the entry without a problem.
Odd.
-----------------------------------------
Miranda was better today, although she was as silent as she usually is. She started talking to me about yesterday, although she didn't say anything. Interesting; I wouldn't have thought she'd have wanted me to know any more.
Another time in class (we were maxing on cleans today, so once we were done there wasn't much to do), I looked over and she was playing on one of the machines, like a middle schooler, pulling the handle back rediculously far and trying to hold on. She inevitably lost her grip on it, sending it clamoring back against the machine. I laughed, and she sent me a look that said, "What?"
She amuses me in her characteristic hyperness. Perhaps it is how she has learned to cope. I can just barely see what I saw full-on yesterday, the shit she deals with underneath. It keeps me just removed from understanding, from connecting with her. It is either a challenge or a warning to stay away, and I'm not sure either one of us knows which.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Steinman thinks I should take Jen Kmetz to prom. I don't know whether to laugh or not; who knows, there's always a chance I will. Prom is a billion years away, who knows what will happen, who I'll think is Miss Right then. Or just Miss Right Then. Haha.
I am a man keenly aware of his fickleness and shallowness. It is wonderful and miserable and even a bit bland, methinks.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Tomorrow night starts our rehearsals for RnG. Supposedly there are scripts waiting for Dee in the mail room; guess I'll find out tomorrow in class.
Two and a half hours tomorrow morning to run stuff with Mike and Ty and the others. There is a God.