Posts
Bingo Boy - post 35
You see that skinny school teacher went through a lot. At first he was gonna forget it. Chalk it up to their deliriously stunted intellects. But then they started to infiltrate into his world and that was too much. Somebody had to suffer. Somebody had to get a stroke over all this. And it wasn't gonna be him. Lemme tell you what happened today. Who am I? I'm the ghost of a guy who DID have a stroke in a little school off 'The Avenue' (Frankford Avenue). The music teacher, that's who I was. Couldn't give out equipment. Couldn't give out instruments. They became weapons. Everything became weapons. Not all the kids, just maybe a third of them. But try doing something constructive with eight berserk 'individuals' in the room. And public school xylophones can be mighty heavy. And drum sticks are too much like spears, blunt spears, but just the same. Principal came in. She was doing her 'observations' and I was an easy target. Oh, I knew she was gonna write me up for a lot of reasons. But I'm dead now. It's over. So let's forget about it. Right there in the classroom. Right in the middle of 'Beautiful Dreamer.' Crashed right down on the hard, cold tile floor. Blood running out of my nose, my mouth, my eye (one of them). Think I was twitching too. Some kids froze. Some ran around the room screaming like a bee was chasing them. Some clapped and laughed. Principal goes - Oh my. Oh my.... Then she sends a kid to bring back the school cop. Good thing is I DID manage to avoid the bad report. But I was dead. Plus side was my wife and family got the ' died in the line of duty' pension insurance pay out. Almost a half million dollars, I think it was. That part made me happy. Now the skinny guy didn't die, but his day wasn't much better.
When he enters the building, the first thing he does is go into the office and sign in. But one of the Tugboat Annie's who frequents the bingo hall has a little grand beast in the building. She happens to be in there 'tawkin' to another woman who's also dropping off a signed 'notice of suspension' paper. And when she see's him (the skinny guy) she starts snickering. She starts whispering something, some of which was not even remotely politically correct. You know, educated types are always targets for that around here.
But he walks out and goes about his business. Teacher can't say anything, you know. Then later, when he goes into the staff lunchroom, he sees 'em all grinning and looking and laughing. Bad enough brushing away mouse turds, but now he's gotta deal with this too. Somebody must a been talkin'. Somebody must a told them. I think the second woman in the office gets a pay check outta the place. Cleans up the lunchroom, or maybe she's the stop-kids-from-choking-each-other- lady in the schoolyard. I don't know. But she talked. And every building has a certain amount of people who love to get down to the level of the kids.
So he eats his bought-on-sale, processed turkey breast sandwich by himself at the rickety little table by the copy machine. And the afternoon ain't much better. Works with middle school aged kids then. They know the story. They keep whispering. They mimic him. They go - Lemme see that card!..... They giggle. They giggle. They giggle some more. Least they don't bop each other with the stainless steel flutes.
Afterwards, when he goes out to the parking lot, he sees what they wrote on his car. I don't know what they used. But it looked like a marker, or a paint thing. And he had to drive all the way back to his house like that. Look, I don't have to tell you. You 'know' how 'understanding' some neighbors are? You know.
So he calls his cousin at the TV station and they set up the whole thing.....
Gloria Allred called him, for Christ's sake...
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You see that skinny school teacher went through a lot. At first he was gonna forget it. Chalk it up to their deliriously stunted intellects. But then they started to infiltrate into his world and that was too much. Somebody had to suffer. Somebody had to get a stroke over all this. And it wasn't gonna be him. Lemme tell you what happened today. Who am I? I'm the ghost of a guy who DID have a stroke in a little school off 'The Avenue' (Frankford Avenue). The music teacher, that's who I was. Couldn't give out equipment. Couldn't give out instruments. They became weapons. Everything became weapons. Not all the kids, just maybe a third of them. But try doing something constructive with eight berserk 'individuals' in the room. And public school xylophones can be mighty heavy. And drum sticks are too much like spears, blunt spears, but just the same. Principal came in. She was doing her 'observations' and I was an easy target. Oh, I knew she was gonna write me up for a lot of reasons. But I'm dead now. It's over. So let's forget about it. Right there in the classroom. Right in the middle of 'Beautiful Dreamer.' Crashed right down on the hard, cold tile floor. Blood running out of my nose, my mouth, my eye (one of them). Think I was twitching too. Some kids froze. Some ran around the room screaming like a bee was chasing them. Some clapped and laughed. Principal goes - Oh my. Oh my.... Then she sends a kid to bring back the school cop. Good thing is I DID manage to avoid the bad report. But I was dead. Plus side was my wife and family got the ' died in the line of duty' pension insurance pay out. Almost a half million dollars, I think it was. That part made me happy. Now the skinny guy didn't die, but his day wasn't much better.
When he enters the building, the first thing he does is go into the office and sign in. But one of the Tugboat Annie's who frequents the bingo hall has a little grand beast in the building. She happens to be in there 'tawkin' to another woman who's also dropping off a signed 'notice of suspension' paper. And when she see's him (the skinny guy) she starts snickering. She starts whispering something, some of which was not even remotely politically correct. You know, educated types are always targets for that around here.
But he walks out and goes about his business. Teacher can't say anything, you know. Then later, when he goes into the staff lunchroom, he sees 'em all grinning and looking and laughing. Bad enough brushing away mouse turds, but now he's gotta deal with this too. Somebody must a been talkin'. Somebody must a told them. I think the second woman in the office gets a pay check outta the place. Cleans up the lunchroom, or maybe she's the stop-kids-from-choking-each-other- lady in the schoolyard. I don't know. But she talked. And every building has a certain amount of people who love to get down to the level of the kids.
So he eats his bought-on-sale, processed turkey breast sandwich by himself at the rickety little table by the copy machine. And the afternoon ain't much better. Works with middle school aged kids then. They know the story. They keep whispering. They mimic him. They go - Lemme see that card!..... They giggle. They giggle. They giggle some more. Least they don't bop each other with the stainless steel flutes.
Afterwards, when he goes out to the parking lot, he sees what they wrote on his car. I don't know what they used. But it looked like a marker, or a paint thing. And he had to drive all the way back to his house like that. Look, I don't have to tell you. You 'know' how 'understanding' some neighbors are? You know.
So he calls his cousin at the TV station and they set up the whole thing.....
Gloria Allred called him, for Christ's sake...
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