Patroclus
July 21st 2004, 01:15 AM
Last night, just before midnight, I got a call on my cell phone from a restricted number. The muffled voice on the other end said:
“Hey Rob, this is Kenny.”
At this point I knew that it was one of my students – she was referring to a fellow teacher whom I rarely associated with. She continued in her poorly impersonated man-voice:
“I saw you at the club last night – ooooh – you were so f***** hot.”
To which I replied, “ah… it is too bad that you are as stupid as you are ugly.”
I hung up, and I did not hear from her again that night. I did notice that she had some friends giggling in the background. So, I have had all day to think about what I would say if she should call again.
Sure enough, I was watching The Cider House Rules, when at about 9:15 (at least they have the decency to call after 9pm so as not to waste my air time) I get another call.
“Oh, Mr. Clark, you’re so hot,” etc. etc.
At this point, after I motioned to Alden, he grabbed the phone from me, and said, with much mock in his voice, “I’m a moron.” He hung up.
I was a bit disappointed because I wanted to play with their sorry little heads. I was in luck; she called back.
“I’m not a moron!”
Apparently this cute little word is enough to cut to the quick.
I replied, “Okay, but put yourself on speaker phone so I can make a fool of you in front of all your friends.”
She did – I am not making this up, folks.
“Is that better?”
“Yeah, but you are too close to the microphone. I can barely understand you. If you want to ridicule me, part of the point is that I be able to understand, and therefore be offended.”
“Is this better?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to shout. That muffles everything. Try it again.”
“Oh Clarkey, I want you so bad.”
At this point, I had her dead to rights. Only one person at that school – a popular, high-strung, blonde, freshman girl – calls me “Clarkey.”
“Clarkey? You need to stop hanging around Shannon R—. She is feeding you bad habbits.”
Stunned silence. My poor would-be telephone stalker needed an out. So, she did the most logical thing a fourteen-year-old who cannot come-up with a decent joke to play on a teacher than that which has to do with me being "hot” (I cannot escape the irony that she is complimenting me every chance she gets): she denied her own existence.
“Who is Shannon R—? Is she one of your many affairs?”
Now, not only am I “so f***** hot,” I am also smooth enough to bag as many women as I want.
“No, she is just one of my students. Say, you should tell your friends to stop laughing because they are interfering with your speaker microphone…”
She hung up about this point.
Lets review.
A student who does not like me, calls me to compliment me, follows my instructions for talking properly on the phone, reveals her identity, and finally denies knowledge of her own existence. I think I win!
:pat: BOOYAH!
“Hey Rob, this is Kenny.”
At this point I knew that it was one of my students – she was referring to a fellow teacher whom I rarely associated with. She continued in her poorly impersonated man-voice:
“I saw you at the club last night – ooooh – you were so f***** hot.”
To which I replied, “ah… it is too bad that you are as stupid as you are ugly.”
I hung up, and I did not hear from her again that night. I did notice that she had some friends giggling in the background. So, I have had all day to think about what I would say if she should call again.
Sure enough, I was watching The Cider House Rules, when at about 9:15 (at least they have the decency to call after 9pm so as not to waste my air time) I get another call.
“Oh, Mr. Clark, you’re so hot,” etc. etc.
At this point, after I motioned to Alden, he grabbed the phone from me, and said, with much mock in his voice, “I’m a moron.” He hung up.
I was a bit disappointed because I wanted to play with their sorry little heads. I was in luck; she called back.
“I’m not a moron!”
Apparently this cute little word is enough to cut to the quick.
I replied, “Okay, but put yourself on speaker phone so I can make a fool of you in front of all your friends.”
She did – I am not making this up, folks.
“Is that better?”
“Yeah, but you are too close to the microphone. I can barely understand you. If you want to ridicule me, part of the point is that I be able to understand, and therefore be offended.”
“Is this better?”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to shout. That muffles everything. Try it again.”
“Oh Clarkey, I want you so bad.”
At this point, I had her dead to rights. Only one person at that school – a popular, high-strung, blonde, freshman girl – calls me “Clarkey.”
“Clarkey? You need to stop hanging around Shannon R—. She is feeding you bad habbits.”
Stunned silence. My poor would-be telephone stalker needed an out. So, she did the most logical thing a fourteen-year-old who cannot come-up with a decent joke to play on a teacher than that which has to do with me being "hot” (I cannot escape the irony that she is complimenting me every chance she gets): she denied her own existence.
“Who is Shannon R—? Is she one of your many affairs?”
Now, not only am I “so f***** hot,” I am also smooth enough to bag as many women as I want.
“No, she is just one of my students. Say, you should tell your friends to stop laughing because they are interfering with your speaker microphone…”
She hung up about this point.
Lets review.
A student who does not like me, calls me to compliment me, follows my instructions for talking properly on the phone, reveals her identity, and finally denies knowledge of her own existence. I think I win!
:pat: BOOYAH!