TOday was quite conceivably one of the worst days I’ve ever had in terms of the amount of awesomely bad/embarrassing stuff that happened. Hopefully, posting it here will make me feel a little better about it & get it in perspective.
I’ve recently been embroiled in some adventures with some family members which I shall probably post in a different thread and as a result I had to take a couple of days off college, I got back this morning.
It all started badly as I was queueing for the bus. It was late and it was raining and as I craned my neck to see if the bus was coming round the corner I saw Marjorie Spencer.
Marjorie Spencer is quite old, quite a familiar face around my area and quite, quite mad. She has a worrying tendency to go up to people in the street and start talking to them about…well about whatever comes to her, really. Football pools, the state of the nation, egg fried rice, whatever.
Anyway, Marjorie approached my bus stop and as I turned away and tried as subtly as possible to ignore her presence she bumped into me and the cigarette she had been smoking fell out of her mouth and onto the concrete floor. She looked at me, then at the cigarette, then back to me again and said in a typical kindly old lady voice:
“You cunt”
And continued to go wherever it was she was going. Now I was flabberghasted. I mean, what do you say to a sweet little old lady in a flowery hat who’s just called you a cunt? I couldn’t think of anything and by the time it had sunk in, she’d gone and the bus had arrived to take me to school.
So I got to school and got off at the bus stop and trudged the remaining hundred yards to the school gates in the pouring rain before I’d realised I’d left my umbrella on the bus and wandered in to college. The very first person I meet is the Religious Education teacher, Mr West.
Mr West is a pissant.
Mr West has a real hard on for correct attire amongst all pupils and immediately marches up to me, prods me inbetween the shoulder blades with his chubby forefinger and says
“Hey, you there Boy! Get that leather Jacket off”
I like, my leather jacket, I mean I REALLY like my leather Jacket. It’s brand new, super shiny and makes me look like that dude from the matrix, only cooler. That leather Jacket holds more cool in its inside pocket than Mr West has ever known. Now obviously I can’t trust him with it, he might be tempted to wear it and could conceivably become bewitched by it’s mystical, Fonzie-esque powers. I therefore continue walking until I reach a corner and then run like the wind…straight into Debbie. Debbie is a really, really sweet dinnerlady who likes me and gives me extra chips for free. Unfortunately for me today, she weighs about 25 stone. Like a fly smacking against a windshield I caroomed off of Debbie and fell back, lying spreadeagled on the floor for the several seconds it took to get my bearings. In this time Mr West had caught up with me and had my lovely leather Jacket confiscated for the rest of the day.
This was all before 9:00 in the morning.
The rest of the day was pretty much mundane and uneventful until 4:30 pm which is when I decided to go home (I’d had to stay late to catch up on some stuff). I really wanted my leather jacket back. As I said before I didn’t trust West with it and resolved to get it back today. I went to the Lost Property room where most confiscated things are kept and knocked on the door where a secretary should have let me in. After about 5 minutes of waiting and knocking it dawned on me that there was no secretary. My leather Jacket was locked in that room, prisoner.
I could not stand idly by and let this happen. I could not let my lovely premium leather Jacket (which I really like, by the way) spend the night in that dank, disgusting pit along side smelly PE kits, blood/mud/vomit stained school ties and other, lesser, confiscated items (also my bus ticket was in the leathers inside pocket and if I didn’t get it back it meant a 5 mile walk. It was also still raining). There was no choice. I had to try and find another way in.
I walked out of the main entrance and examined the front of the building for an open window. As luck would have it there was one but I had to reach my arm inside the window to unlatch it properly as it was only ajar to let some air in. I have short arms and stubby fingers so this was quite a feat of dexterity for me but I managed it anyway and like Alladins cave the window swung in.
So did I.
I just about managed to regain my balance and had proceeded to gently lower myself in to the Lost Property Room when I heard
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING MURRELL???”
As I twisted round to see who had called my name I lost my grip on the windowframe and toppled headfirst into the Lost Property room and hit the floor face first, triggering a not insubstantial nosebleed. As I twisted my shattered frame up to the window I saw the leering, manaiacal grin of Mr West.
“Looks like I’ll be keeping hold of that jacket, Murrell.”
Still, at least he’s not a vegan.
Why did you run away from him, though? Could he have done anything worse if you told him “not only no but hell no?”