Entry 22: The Longest Monday
I can't help but feel it was pointless of me to shower this morning.
Rather than spending the morning listening to Princess go on about her latest fashion discoveries, or Pink boy interrupting Simmons' lectures with his constant need for a snack, the class sat quietly minding their own business for a change.
When lunch finally did come, it didn't seem to put a damper on our desire to play the quiet game. That is, until football head decides to put his 'problem solving skills' to the test.
"Well it's here. The question is, what are we going to do about it?"
Of course, there was still one dork who wasn't aware of his dignity being on the verge of distinction.
"What's Here?"
"Come on Eugene! Today is trash can day! Don't you know about trash can day?!"
Well Geraldo took care of 'Mr. Been hiding UNDER a trash can's' cluelessness. I won't pretend I listen to that made up nonsense he spits out on occasion just to look like Mr. Big Shot. I'll just dumb it down for you. If you're a fifth grader, you have the amazing privilege of dunking a fourth grader into the garbage on the first Monday in June.
Why don't those moronic teachers care to do anything about it? Umm...because they're morons, DOI!
Well, Arnoldo insisted we didn't have to worry about it…
"All for one and one for all!"
Uhh...reach for the stars pal.
After listening to football head's amazing plan to make it EIGHT FREAKING BLOCKS to the flower shop without being shoved into a pile of waste, everyone pretended to have their minds put at ease. Pttsss...the flower shop? It's directly across the street from the boarding house. Why not just say…
"Hey, would you guys like to come to my house? We'll probably get thrown into the garbage along the way, but you're all invited."
I couldn't help but notice as we all sat there eyeing the clock, Simmons was as well. What a cheapskate. He knew what we were in store for. Yet, Mr. Special found the key to sensitivity would be to simply give into those nightmarish fifth graders' hostility. Teacher of the year, am I right?
We all made our way slowly into the hall, thinking we had a snowball's chance of avoiding our ill fated afternoon. When those jerks approached us, Pinkboy shouted what we had all been thinking…
"Every man for himself!"
Sorry Arnoldo, but no one was going to say to Wolfgang and his team…
"Please! Dunk me instead!"
After watching half my classmates be shoved into the remainders of the past week's lunches, I raced off to Park's so called hide away at the city dump. Kind of an awkward place to avoid being thrown in the garbage. Plus, it smelled worse than the meatloaf in the cafeteria!
I made it there to see geek bait getting a major sponge bath; thinking he had a prayer's chance of smelling normal again any time soon.
Apparently my reward for having a 'safe spot' was listening to Pink boy spill his guts about being slammed into a waste basket.
"It was horrible! They picked me up and then they jammed me in the trash can!"
"Aww get over it you big wuss!"
Hey, can you blame me? We all spent the day running away from those creeps, but you didn't hear me complaining.
Moments later, I saw football head and tall hair boy arriving. Despite how absurd his plans may sound, my love always finds a way out of messy situations.
Some safe house it turned out to be though. I watched a swarm of fifth graders break in when Arnold had just gotten comfortable; thinking he no longer had to face the terrible fate of being reduced to a pile of waste.
Park doesn't seem to realize those guys have, oh what's the word…MUSCLES!
"Hey, how'd they get in here?"
No one was going to stick around after seeing them break in. Apparently, they only cared about getting their grubby paws on football head and tall hair boy. Although I didn't stick around the moment they broke in, that didn't stop me from worrying about my beloved the whole race home.
I can only pray he made it back to the boarding house with whoever else was lucky enough to avoid that gang of waste feeding mongrels.
I'm sorry to say my overwhelming concern for him, didn't stop me from racing towards the shower once I made it home. I may not have actually gotten jammed, but I still smell like a moldy burrito.
