Okay, I decided to update this story. It was meant to be a one shot, but you guys seemed to like it so I continued. Hope this is okay, becasue I didn't really have much of a story to go with, but I think I've done alright. Most of it is just Mark's view on life, but there is a bit of a plot in there somewhere. It will come through a bit later on I think... Anyway enjoy, and remember I don't own any of Home Improvement.
I don't necessarily mind that people don't understand me; I do mind when people try to change me. I can't just change who I am, my whole identity, just because some one said so. Most people just tolerate me, but some think that they can 'fix' me. But I don't understand how they think they can do that, because I'm not broken, just a little lost.
The worst offenders are teachers. They think that because I wear black I do drugs and have sex every night when I should be doing my homework. Like I would ever do drugs. I know what they do. They distort the mind, cloud up the subconscious. Why would I do that to myself?
One way teachers make enemies is by trying to 'help' them. That's why I hate most of my teachers. They seem to think I've been abused, or lead some terribly unfortunate life, so they offer a listening ear and a chocolate cookie, which I'm not sure is going to help anyone, except maybe an anorexic.
From my experience, English teachers are the worst. For example, take my English teacher, Mrs. Bates. She's completely convinced that I slit my wrists, and even sent me to the counselor once for 'therapy'. See there you go; she was trying to change me or 'help' me. I guess I should forgive her though; she's not sharpest tool in the shed.
She tries way too hard to be liked by everyone, and if she can't adjust to them, she makes them adjust to her, which is completely unfair. This brings me to the second way teachers make enemies; by trying to be friends. I must admit, I don't worry about this one too much, because half of the teachers are afraid of me and wouldn't touch me with a ten foot pole. Once again, Mrs. Bates can be used as a primary example. She seems to be on a quest for complete universal popularity. Like just the other day, we got a new girl in our class, and Mrs. Bates welcomed her.
"Welcome to our school Helen, hope you enjoy your time here," she had said sweetly, with her plastered on smile. That was the smile she used when she was trying to make friends.
"Thankyou, I'm sure I will," replied the girl called Helen. She had a beautiful accent that seemed to billow around the classroom. Actually, I couldn't help but notice that she was quite beautiful indeed. She had short black hair, deep brown eyes and had on a pair of tight black jeans and a black T-shirt with a picture of Kurt Cobain printed on it.
Anyway, Mrs. Bates being the incredible fool she is, 'skillfully' picked up Helen's accent as one from the southern states. "Well, good to see y'all well," she said in a strongly emphasized southern accent. Helen just stared at the teacher for a while. "I'm from Australia," she said simply.
The class laughed and Mrs. Bates blushed wildly, and then, perhaps in an attempt to fix her already tattered reputation, she decided to say "Well sit down and throw a shrimp on the Barbie!"
I buried my head in shame; I was embarrassed to be in the same room as the imbecilic teacher. Luckily no one laughed, least of all Helen. "We don't have 'shrimp', we have prawns, and I'm pretty sure holding barbeques in the middle of school isn't part of the curriculum," she said smoothly as she sauntered to a spare desk in front of me. Mrs. Bates looked like she might have a heart attack from shock. She had never been spoken to like that before by a new student.
As you can see, the more teachers try to help and become friends with students, the more they don't help and the more disliked they become. It's really too bad that they can't see this, because it would save everyone a lot of time.
Reviews are welsome. Thankyou for reading!